Handy
by WrittenSword
Summary: Miranda Priestly is having a bad day. And then it gets worse! This is a Andy/Miranda Halloween Story, so that means femslash and a little craziness. Don't like it? Don't read it! That's all.
1. Chapter 1

**HANDY  
**_by WrittenSword aka kendokuschi_

**Pairing:** Andrea Sachs / Miranda Priestly _(femslash!)_**  
Prompt:** Based on a prompt by_ pradaschroma _over at the DWP community about Miranda _"accidentally"_ grabbing Andy's breast. _(Thank you for the prompt!)_  
**Summary: **Miranda is having a bad day, and then it gets worse. Really. ^_^ It's set in the DWP movie universe, however Andy has not left Miranda in Paris, but stuck around. That's all.  
**Warnings:** It's a Halloween Special! Craziness ensues!  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own The Devil Wears Prada. I only play around with our favourite characters because it's entertaining and no profit is being made.

**A/N:** Ok, this is the second story I have ever written, but the first one to finish. I'm not a native English speaker but I try my best, so I'm sorry if some things seem to make no sense. ^_^  
I'm still learning how to write and how to set up a plot and all that so all feedback is greatly appreciated! Thank you, and enjoy reading! :D

**

* * *

**

Chapter 1

Miranda Priestly pushed through the door into the busy New York street. What a disaster! The new Holt collection was hideous. She had not seen a single garment that she could feature in the December issue. The models might as well have worn the newest Wallmart rags. And those purses? Atrocities! They had looked like roadkill on a sling. She looked around for her car but there was no sign of the silver Mercedes. Great, was everyone trying to piss her off today? She was close enough to run her hands through her short, white hair in exasperation, but as usual, she balled it all up inside and calmed her outer appearance.

The door behind her opened and her first assistant Andrea Sachs stumbled out. "Miranda! I called Roy, he's just a few blocks down..." But the older woman interrupted by holding up her hand. "Bore someone else with your explanations. It is beyond my comprehension why my car cannot simply be here when I need it." It didn't matter that she had just stormed out in the middle of a showing and had sent her driver off on another errand earlier. She knew it wasn't Andrea's fault either, the girl was actually very competent. Miranda sighed and firmly clutched her purse. She detested waiting, it was a waste of time. She was certainly not going to spend endless minutes standing on a filthy sidewalk.

Without a word she spun on her heel and began walking down the street, the clacking of heels behind her indicating that the girl was following. She was Miranda Priestly, editor-in-chief of _RUNWAY_, the number one magazine in the fashion world. If everyone around her was about to implode from their own uselessness she just had to take matters into her own hands. Her four inch Prada heels bore into the concrete as she swiftly cut through the throng of pedestrians. People actually looked up startled and moved out of her way. She snarled as she pulled her black Chanel trench coat tighter. Everyone feared her, just by laying their eyes on her. She knew she radiated command, it kept her safe, it made people keep their distance. It especially came in handy when having to do such demeaning tasks as walking down a New York City sidewalk on a cold October afternoon.

"Please spare a coin," a hunched old woman in dirty clothes stepped in her way, forcing her to come to an abrupt stop. Miranda tilted her head to the side in displeasure and glared at the person in front of her through her Prada sunglasses. She had absolutely no patience for this today. The old woman opened her mouth in a toothless grin and held an empty palm up to Miranda. "Please spare a coin." The smell of urine and other street filth wafted toward the editor and she wrinkled her nose and turned her face away. This day could not possibly get worse. She stepped around her with a sniff and continued down the block, hearing the old woman mumble something inaudible after her, probably a rude remark or an insult. Miranda rolled her eyes. People.

"Miranda," her assistant tried to catch up to her. "Roy is here." She spotted the Mercedes pulling over right beside her and she did not even wait for the driver to step out. Before she could reach for the door handle herself, though, Andrea had already rushed forward and stood to hold the car door open with a friendly smile. Well, at least some people still did their job. Miranda sighed as she elegantly glided into the back seat and removed her glasses. Her assistant quietly slid through the other door and was already busy on the phone, calling in an order to Starbucks. Coffee, that sounded good right now. Miranda glanced over at the girl. Andrea knew her so well.

The car pulled into New York traffic and Miranda turned her head to look out at the world traveling by. She was glad for the isolation of the car as she watched the hordes of badly-dressed office workers beginning their journey home. She really could not understand ordinary people and their uninspiring lives. Andrea's phone rang and the girl answered quickly, speaking briefly but efficiently with the personal assistant of Lagerfeld about their meeting next week. Miranda inhaled deeply. At least Andrea kept things running smoothly.

Her eyes travelled along the sidewalk when she all of a sudden noticed the old woman from earlier staring at her, following the car with her eyes. How could she possibly see her? The windows were tinted. But those eyes seemed to burn right into her and then she spread her toothless mouth into a smug grin. Miranda turned her head to keep looking but as soon as she blinked the woman had disappeared between a throng of people. Miranda leaned back into the seat and rubbed the bridge of her nose. She was losing her mind. She really did need that coffee.

Back in her office she was on the phone with Patrick Demarchelier, the proofs from the Ralph Lauren shoot spread across her desk. She made clear he understood what she thought about model number 2, with the blond curls and the bored expression on her bony face, and then hung up. She was getting very picky lately with the girls they hired for photo shoots. Many of them looked empty, without vibrancy. And too skinny. Miranda sniffed. Right. Now she was getting concerned with the eating habits of fashion models. She shook her head. No she did not really care how they ate. She only cared about her work, about aesthetics.

She rubbed her fingers against the base of her neck. For some reason she did not find skinny models aesthetically pleasing. She had never thought about it earlier, it had not even entered her mind. What had always been important were the clothes. So why did she all of a sudden notice that the models were... lacking? There was nothing wrong with them by the standards of the fashion industry. An industry she herself had greatly influence over the past two decades. Miranda exhaled sharply. She was indeed losing her mind.

Andrea walked in with a big paper cup of Starbucks coffee and placed it quietly on the glass desk in front of her. "The girls called. Their arrangements for tonight are confirmed and Roy will pick them up at seven." Miranda nodded and reached for the coffee. That's right, tonight was the Halloween party at her twin daughters' school. She would not see them before she got home and they had sleepover plans at one of their friends' houses. She took a slow sip from her coffee, enjoying the burning sensation of the steaming hot liquid as it ran down her throat. Her assistant stood before her, hands clasped behind her back. "Was there anything else?" she asked with a smile, her large brown eyes shining with the urge to please.

"No. That's all." Miranda dismissed her and turned her chair around so she had her back to the door and could gaze out into the early evening New York skyline. She dreaded the thought of returning to an empty house at night. It was only a few days since her third divorce had been finalized but Stephen had moved out the moment he had filed for it. While she was in Paris for Spring Fashion Week. He had not even had the balls to do it in person. Miranda thought back to that day with a shudder. He had ordered his lawyers to phone her when she was getting ready for another obligatory dinner. She was about to get dressed when the finality of yet another failed marriage had hit her.

Miranda Priestly married for convenience and companionship. Her first husband had been a good friend, with useful connections and they had spent a few enjoyable years before his infidelities had been plastered in the gossip magazines one too many times. She was not as much bothered by his unfaithfulness as by him not being discreet enough. Her second husband had been the perfect father, and Miranda's life had been greatly enriched by the arrival of her daughters. She would never change a thing about that. When husband number two had grown tired of her, or rather, as he had put it, "found his soul mate" in a twenty year younger secretary, Miranda had let him go as well. Not without making sure her twins would still have him in their lives, though.

Stephen had been promising. Miranda had envisioned him as good father figure and they had shared a common interest in French romantic composers and wine. However Stephen had taken his interest in wine too far. Only a few months into their marriage he had begun to arrive home intoxicated, and he was not a peaceful drunk. Miranda brought the coffee back to her lips when she remembered their many fights. He had blamed his alcoholism on her, saying she had emasculated him. That he always stood in her shadow, and that she did not treat him like a wife should treat her husband. They had fought frequently and Miranda knew it had taken its toll on her daughters.

She swirled another sip of coffee around in her mouth and swallowed, thinking back at one particular fight when Andrea, second assistant back then, had accidentally walked in on them. Miranda had been so shocked and embarrassed to have the girl see her not have control in her own home that she had tried to sabotage her the next day by giving her a seemingly impossible task and the threat of failure turning into immediate dismissal. Andrea, however, had excelled, providing her daughters' favourite book manuscript before its actual publication and not only winning a spot in the girls' hearts but also earning Miranda's respect. It was a week later that Miranda had learned from the twins that they had sent the assistant up to stop her and Stephen from fighting.

Andrea was more or less connected to her divorce from Stephen. When Miranda had received the news in Paris and allowed her mask to fall, crying over the failure of providing stability for her daughters, Andrea had walked in and seen her. Seen her without make-up, eyes red, wearing nothing but a thin bathrobe. It was the girl's apparent compassion and the fact that she did not once judge her boss, that had helped Miranda pull herself together and continue with the evening and the rest of fashion week. Even after she had crushed one of her long-time employee's dreams of independence in order to safe her own position, the girl had not wavered or become judgemental.

Miranda looked up into the evening sky, daylight had disappeared and the fluorescence of nighttime New York City drowned out the beauty of the stars. After she had swallowed the last of her coffee and disposed of the empty cup she allowed herself to smile. Andrea had really been the only constant in her life over the past few months. Her other assistant Emily had been transferred after a more or less satisfactory year in her employ and since then she'd had to fire countless of incompetent, useless girls. They were barely good enough to fetch skirts from Calvin Klein or run to Hermès for more scarves and Miranda would never let them do important things, such as delivering The Book, or getting her coffee. No, she only trusted her cheery first assistant with those tasks. Furthermore the girl was the only one who was allowed by her side when she went to showings or important meetings. There had also been the occasional business dinner or two.

Miranda relaxed back into her office chair and exhaled. It would certainly not be easy once Andrea's year was up, and not a single assistant in Miranda's twenty years as editor had ever taken up the offer for a contract extension. Andrea certainly would not stay, she had been the most promising girl to date. She was skilled, efficient and very intelligent. She was nice to have around at benefits or balls. She was eye-candy and great for showing off the newest designer gowns but despite the obvious interest she inspired in others, she never left Miranda's side. Andrea was also funny. Miranda did not laugh at work, unless it was a fake sarcastic laugh to scare someone into submission. However the young assistant's wit had more than once forced Miranda to hide a chuckle behind her hand. Hmmm. There was just something about that girl.

Suddenly Miranda realized that her right hand had somehow found its way under her blouse and was stroking her belly in languid circles. And had she just hummed? She immediately sat up straight and tried to pull her hand away but to her utter surprise she seemed to have absolutely not control over her right arm. She snorted. This was ridiculous. She pulled again but her hand only jerked higher, brushing against the silk of her bra. Her eyes grew wide and she tried to use her left hand to pull her other arm down. It took a lot of effort and she could not prevent a frustrated grunt from escaping, but after a short while her right arm was at a safe distance outside of her blouse. Just in time, too, because Miranda heard the soft clearing of a throat coming from her left.

"Miranda, is everything alright?" Andrea must have heard her. Miranda slowly spun the chair around to face her assistant, when the right hand jerked forward, pulling her whole body along. To her utter horror that damned hand flew straight at Andrea and clamped itself snugly around the girl's left breast.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Andy Sachs was in love with her boss. It wasn't something that she had planned on, it wasn't something she had welcomed, and it certainly was not something that made her everyday life any easier. Miranda Priestly was possibly the most infuriatingly difficult person on earth to please. She constantly expected perfection and if anything was below that standard she would make sure to slice the individuals responsible in tiny pieces with only a glance and an icy insult rolling off her lips. Working as her assistant was hell. There was no life remaining beyond the countless errands, the frequent schedule amendments or the never ending commands rattled off at faster-than-light speed. You had to be better than your very best to keep up and although a lot of girls would kill for this job, the job would kill a lot of girls before the end of their first day.

Nevertheless Andy had grown into her role. She had moved past her initial righteous attitude and damnation of the fashion industry and had grown to actually enjoy and appreciate the work she was doing instead of viewing it only as a stepping stone toward a career in publishing. She had started to pay attention and had realized the amount of skill and effort Miranda put into her work. Her respect for the editor had only increased after Paris Fashion Week where Miranda had been so open and vulnerable one moment but then pulled herself together and relentlessly fought for her job just a day later. It would take enormous strength to pull through something like that and do it as elegantly as Miranda Priestly had.

In the months after Fashion Week Andy had excelled at her job, especially after Emily, the former first assistant, had moved on and Andy was left to hire and train new candidates. During that time Miranda had started to rely on her even more and it had pleased her tremendously when she had been asked to accompany Miranda to dinner for the first time. It had only been a work function, but Andy was sure that Emily had never been allowed to go. She was not really sure why Miranda had disliked all the new assistants, though. They hadn't all been that bad. A few had actually been competent and Andy had given them more important tasks which apparently had not been too thrilling for her boss because the second assistant's desk was always empty again on the following day.

Andy did not really mind that she had so much extra work, because it meant she'd spend more time in Miranda's presence. On one of their late work nights, trying to recover the mess from a failed photo shoot, they had spent hours going over proofs and Andy had eagerly written down every detail Miranda had mentioned. When she had looked up at the quiet woman then, her eyes closed, a hand rubbing the tense neck muscles and a soft sigh escaping her lips, that was when Andy hit the brick wall called realization. She loved Miranda Priestly.

At first she had been in denial. She had named it a girl-crush, hero-worship and misplaced infatuation. However after a while she had accepted that what she was feeling ran much deeper, and it was not about Miranda Priestly, the fashion icon, the powerful entity or ruthless business warlord, but it had everything to do with Miranda, the woman. The few glimpses Andy had gotten of the person behind the mask, the vulnerable, lonely human being, with the surprisingly big heart, and the incredibly witty sense of humor and an intelligence that inspired her, had pulled her toward Miranda and Andy knew she wanted more.

She had only had two boyfriends in her life. Brandon had been her best friend all through High School who had asked her out during senior year and Andy had said yes. After all he was her friend. Then when she had moved to college, away from home and without her childhood friends nearby, she had met Nate, a sweet boy who had dreamt of becoming a celebrity chef. In the three years they'd been together he had always made Andy feel safe and loved and their relationship had been comfortable and uncomplicated. That is, until she had started working at RUNWAY and for Miranda Priestly. Working at the magazine and facing the demanding editor every day had changed Andy. It had opened a side of her she hadn't known existed.

For the first time in her life someone had really challenged her and brought out the best and the worst in her. Miranda had been the first person in Andy's life who had drawn and pulled her in, who had fascinated her to such a degree that even her subconscious thoughts were constantly occupied by the editor. She was twenty-four years old, and yet for the first time Andy felt alive. Nate had noticed her change and had rightfully blamed it on her new job and on her boss. Andy wasn't sure exactly how much Nate had suspected before she herself had even known, but he had moved out by the time she had returned from Paris and although she missed him as her friend, he had not left a hole in her heart.

It was then that she had realized she had never truly loved him. At least not in a soul-mate, passionate kind of way. Now that she thought back, the difference between her comfortable feelings for Nate and the hurricane of emotions for Miranda was mind-blowing. When the older woman would look at her, pleasant ripples would travel down her spine. Pleasing Miranda's every wish had become her sole purpose in life, just to see that satisfied twinkle in those blue eyes or a slight curl of the lips in approval. She had spent many nights tossing and turning with images of ruffled white hair and glistening, silky skin plaguing her dreams. She had fantasized so many times what Miranda's lips would feel like, kissing up and down her spine, or those elegant hands wandering across her body, touching her everywhere.

Like right now. Andy could swear that she was standing in Miranda's office with one of the editor's hands holding her breast. She blinked a few times and looked down to the older woman's face. The blue eyes were bright with terror, lips nothing more than a thin line and the most delicate flush crept up from Miranda's exposed neckline. Andy was speechless. She was very certain she was daydreaming until she felt the heat from the older woman's hand penetrating her cashmere sweater. Her heart rate increased dramatically and her chest seemed to burst when those delicate fingers started to rub against her. Andy could not help but close her eyes and gasp. Daydream or not, this was too good to be true.

She was startled by the movement of Miranda pulling at one hand with the other. The older woman did not look at Andy, she only stared at her hand on the breast, utter disbelief clouding her face. "Andrea," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Please step away." Andy was too shocked to move, until Miranda glanced up with a pleading look. "Please." It was barely audible but the sincerity pulled Andy out of her trance and she awkwardly stumbled back. Miranda's body jerked and the editor lunged after Andy. She landed on the carpet with a loud thud. "Ouch." She groaned and Andy saw her hold onto her arm with her face twisted in what looked like extreme discomfort.

"Miranda, are you alright?" She hurried to kneel by the editor's side. Miranda tried to lean up and within seconds her right hand had dashed forward and was now traveling up Andy's thigh, past the hem of her skirt. It elicited another gasp, this time from both women and Andy's eyes shot to Miranda's. "Oh god. Andrea, please move away." The older woman nearly groaned and turned her face to hide it against the soft carpet. Andy scrambled up and backed around the desk and toward the door. "Miranda, are you alright?" Although her breast and thigh were pleasantly tingling she was worried about the other woman's behavior. Miranda never touched anyone or allowed anyone to touch her in return. Staring down at the woman who was struggling to get up while holding onto a twitching right arm, Andy was sure that something was very, very wrong.

"I will phone a doctor immediately, Miranda." The editor managed to stand, turned her back to Andy and spoke quietly. "Yes, please." Andy realized that the older woman had used the word 'please' several times in the past minute, which was very out of character. Panic rising at the possibility of Miranda having a heart attack or a stroke, she stumbled into the outer office and flung herself across her own desk to reach the phone. "Yes, security? I need medical assistance right away in Miranda Priestly's office. Please hurry. This is an emergency."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Miranda heard Andrea call for medical assistance in the outer office as she tried to slow her breathing. Oh god! Had she really just dived, face first, into the office carpet? After fondling the bosom of her young assistant? Only to proceed with trailing her hand up the girl's thighs? The editor's heart was pounding wildly. She spent several uncharacteristic seconds hoping that it had all been a dream. A figment of her imagination. Pressing the offending arm tightly against her chest with her left hand, Miranda tried to calm down. What the hell had just happened? She was not some kind of pervert that felt up innocent young women!

It had felt as if her hand had moved by its own free will. She certainly had tried to fight it, had tried to pull it away. And why had she plunged to the floor, as if possessed? She closed her eyes and counted to ten. Taking deep, slow breaths she moved to her chair to sit back down, and faced the window once more, hoping to make some sort of sense of everything.

This was the most ridiculous thing, that had ever happened to her. Miranda was at a complete loss and leaned back into the chair, feeling the ridiculous urge to disappear. Of all people, it had happened in front of Andrea. The one person she had come to rely on, the one person, she felt, could maybe even like and respect her, unlike everybody else in her life.

Miranda couldn't prevent a frustrated groan when she thought about the possibility of Andrea filing a sexual harassment suit against her. What did the girl think of her now? Was their pleasant working relationship ruined? Would she quit? The editor was glad that they were 'in between second assistants', and the outer office had been empty when she had so blatantly fondled Andrea and thrown herself at the girl's feet.

She absentmindedly rubbed her left thumb and index finger against her temples and suddenly realized that she had let go of her right hand. She looked down at it and it did not seem to twitch anymore and just lay lifelessly in her lap. She carefully began to flex her fingers and to her relief they wriggled at her command. Miranda closed her eyes and exhaled slowly through tight lips. This day truly was the worst. Ever.

"Miranda, the office nurse is here." The editor flinched at the sound of her assistant's voice. "I'm fine now, Andrea. Send her away." She heard someone walk around her desk and clear their throat. "Mrs. Priestly, your assistant told us that you were maybe having a stroke or a heart attack. I need to examine you."

Miranda spun her chair around at the 'Mrs.' and gave one of her best glares to the nurse. The events of this lousy day fueled the iciness in her voice when she spoke evenly through clenched teeth. "You will do no such thing."

The nurse was a mousy woman with short hair and a small chin and she was wearing a white lab coat and carrying an emergency case in her hand. "I'm very sorry, Ma'am, but Elias-Clark policy states that I must examine you in order to clear you. Otherwise I will need to phone an ambulance."

Miranda managed to suppress her rage and rolled her eyes in defeat. She really did not want anyone to invade her personal space anymore today. Not that Andrea had, though. It had been the other way around, of course. She closed her eyes in an attempt not to blush and when she opened them again she noticed the reflection of Andrea leaning against the door frame in the window, looking right back at her. The girl's brows were slightly furrowed and Miranda wondered if she was actually worried about her or if she was calculating whether she could still find a lawyer this late in the day.

The nurse stepped closer and pulled Miranda from her thoughts. "Okay, let's listen to your heart." The cold stethoscope against her sternum was highly unpleasant. Not as unpleasant as the unattractive woman hovering right above her, though. In an attempt to block her out, Miranda looked back toward the window to seek out Andrea's eyes. To her surprise the girl gave a slight smile, as if to encourage the editor.

"Heart sounds good," the nurse said as she moved to retrieve a sphygmomanometer from the case. "Let's see about the pressure." She stepped unbearably close again, her breath smelling of cheap Indian food, and Miranda felt her right hand twitch. Oh no! Please! No more inappropriate chest-grabbing, for crying out loud!

The unpleasant woman was holding onto Miranda's left arm in order to position the inflatable cuff, making it difficult for the editor to restrain her twitching hand. "Move away this instant," she hissed through gritted teeth. The nurse, probably used to her share of difficult patients, just grabbed her wrist tighter and pinned it down. "Now, this won't hurt a bit. There's no reason to be difficult." From the corner of her eye Miranda saw her alarmed assistant step into the office. She did not want to expose Andrea to anymore weirdness. "Let go of my arm!" She struggled trying to free herself. "Would you hold still, Mrs. Priestly!"

That did it. Miranda felt her right hand shoot toward the nurse in a flash and connect harshly with the woman's stomach. The nurse's eyes went wide as she staggered away and fell on her backside with a yelp, clutching her middle. The editor glanced in horror at her outstretched arm, hovering in the air, and clenched in a fist so tight that her knuckles were turning white. Okay, that had certainly not been 'inappropriate chest-grabbing'.

"Miranda, are you alright?" Andrea was by her side again, this time keeping a bit more distance.

The nurse wheezed. "Is she alright? Ugh! I'm the one... who was assaulted!" Miranda ignored the woman on the floor and just stared at the girl in front of her with terror in her eyes. She was no longer concerned about fondling her assistant. What if she actually physically hurt her? Something inside her contracted at that thought and she felt sick. "Andrea, please stay away," she whispered in a pleading tone, averting her gaze from the girl's large, dark eyes. To hell with dignity today.

Andrea nodded and turned to help the nurse up. The woman was cursing wildly and rushed to pack and close the emergency case. "I will report this to my superior, do you hear me?" Miranda still sat with her fist in the air, pulling at the rigid arm with her left hand, but just like before, it would not budge. The nurse mumbled a cascade of insults as she stomped toward the door.

Andrea quickly moved after her and caught her in the outer office. "Wait! Miranda asked you to let go. She was obviously in a lot of pain and you made it worse." The nurse glared at her, but said nothing, so the assistant continued. "So, unless you want a companion report filed about your own behavior, I'd say we'll just drop this."

The short woman looked over at Miranda, who felt plenty of pain from the way her fist was still clenching. It must have shown in her face because the nurse turned back to Andrea and said quietly. "Alright. But make sure she sees a doctor." Andrea reached out to squeeze the woman's shoulder briefly and nodded. "Thank you. I will."

Once the nurse was out of sight Miranda felt her arm drop to her lap and she groaned in relief when she slowly unrolled her fingers. Well, her hand certainly had mood swings, its disobedience seemed to come and go at random intervals. The editor rubbed her aching palm and sighed. She needed to get out of the office. Away from people. Maybe it was a good thing that the girls were gone tonight. The mere thought of scaring, or hurting them constricted her lungs and made her shudder.

She stood up quickly and brushed through the door, however, before she could say anything, Andrea had already jumped to retrieve her purse and trench coat from the closet. She offered them with a sweet smile and Miranda paused for a moment. After all the craziness that had just happened in her office, this girl was still doing her job, no questions asked. That was true loyalty and Miranda wasn't sure if she had ever experienced that before.

She accepted her things with the left hand, turning her right shoulder away from her assistant, just to make sure. Once she was fully dressed, she regarded Andrea for a moment before she lowered her voice to a whisper. "Thank you, Andrea."

The assistant's eyes widened briefly at the unusual word's coming from her boss' lips, but she quickly nodded. "No problem, Miranda. I really do hope that you are okay." The girl's smile moved something inside of the editor. Andrea was honestly concerned and did not simply assume that she had lost her mind or harboured dishonorable intentions. Miranda realized her trust in the girl was not misplaced.

Before she had time to react, she felt her right hand snake up from behind her back and fly toward Andrea's cheek. They both let out a startled gasp, but the contact was soft and gentle and the warmth of the quickly flushing skin tingled in Miranda's palm. "Oh god, I'm so sorry," the older woman whispered while she tried to remove her hand. "That damn hand does these things on its own. I can't control it." She was blushing furiously.

Andrea gave her a strange look but did not reply. Instead she reached for the hand and slowly removed it. How did she do that? Miranda was convinced she herself could not control that hand and she tried to wriggle out of Andrea's grasp. She did not succeed and was surprised when the girl easily dropped the arm back to the editor's side. "Goodnight, Miranda," she said softly and walked back to sit behind her desk, busying herself with typing on the computer.

The editor was gobsmacked, but tried to keep her face even. Miranda Priestly understood everything, all the time. And if she didn't, then it probably was something inanely uninteresting, so why bother. However, the conundrum of her kamikaze arm actually made her doubt her own sanity. She gave a slight nod and quickly walked toward the elevator, not daring to look back.

On her way down to the lobby she realized that beyond anything she hoped that things would not get damaged between her and her assistant. She wasn't sure she could face the next day if Andrea decided to leave her over this.

The journey to her town house was spent sitting on her hand in the back of her Mercedes. Just as a precaution, of course. She wouldn't want that damn appendage to open the door in the middle of the freeway or fling itself at her driver.

As soon as Miranda had closed the front door of her home behind her, she took a deep breath and slumped against the wall. She was tired and hungry and nothing made any sense. She hung up her coat and bag and made her way to the kitchen. Because of the girls' night away she had allowed the cook a night off and toyed with the idea of making a small omelet. She swung open the fridge and let her eyes travel across the shelves. Mustard, French cheese, champagne, lettuce, Greenfield Beef, a bucket of tiramisu, diet soda, organic tomatoes...

Wait a second. Her right hand had clamped itself around the tiramisu and was pulling it out of the fridge. "For crying out loud!" She groaned into the empty kitchen.

Fine! Whatever! She slammed the fridge door closed and went to find a spoon. If her hand wanted tiramisu, it would get tiramisu. She was too tired and frustrated to fight it. The editor moved to the sitting room and lowered herself into her favourite chair, as elegantly as she could manage with a giant bucket of fat and carbs clutched in her right hand. She snorted at the ridiculous situation and removed the lid.

As she sat in her chair, licking the coffee, cream and alcohol off the spoon in her Chanel suit, it finally sunk in that she had touched Andrea today. Three times, no less. And her only concern had been whether the girl had minded. The question, whether she herself had disliked the contact, had never even come up.

Taking another spoonful of the dessert, she felt her lips curl up slightly. Maybe she was having an adrenaline crash, or her mouth had decided to run amok as well. Reveling in the strange glow that swept up inside of her, Miranda realized that she did not mind.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Andy sat behind her computer in a daze. Miranda had practically just stormed out of the office, and Miranda never, ever ran. Andy reached up to hold her left cheek were the editor's hand had just been and closed her eyes. Oh god! Her heart was running a marathon inside her chest as she remembered the older woman's warm palm on her skin. And earlier, the gentle hand had been on her breast and her thigh. It had felt so much better than she had ever imagined. It nagged at her that Miranda had seemed surprised by her own actions, and had apologized, saying that it had not been on purpose. Andy doubted that Miranda ever did anything by accident.

Overwhelmed by arousal and confusion Andy dropped her head to the cold desk and exhaled audibly. "Ugh!" What was her boss playing at? She must have somehow picked up on Andy's feelings and had decided to torture her assistant. The warm breath left a spot of condensation on the surface below her nose as she sighed. No, Miranda would not play games with her, she was pretty sure of that. The editor could be calculating and vicious and she could reduce grown men to weeping heaps of misery. However somehow Andy felt that this time Miranda had truly been shocked by her own actions.

Not to mention that Andy believed that during the past few months they had gradually settled into a relationship that came close to resemble friendship. The times when Miranda had insulted and ridiculed her just for the heck of it were long gone, and although the editor was still her snappy, unapproachable self most of the time, their working relationship had become smooth and comfortable. Andy was sure Miranda would not all of a sudden ruin that. She stretched out her arms alongside her head and grabbed the front edge of her desk with another groan. This was so frustrating. What in Gucci's name was going on?

"Are you quite alright there, Six?" Andy jerked up and felt an unpleasant pop in her back muscles. "Ugh, Nigel, not anymore. Ouch." She scrunched her face and gingerly rubbed under her left shoulder blade. The art director readjusted some folders under his arm and leaned to glance into the editor's empty office. He turned back to raise a puzzled eyebrow at the assistant. "Has the dragon lady left the den?" Andy crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at him. She knew that ever since Paris, when Miranda had bulldozed his dreams of becoming James Holt's partner in order to save her own skin, Nigel had every right to talk badly about her boss. However it did not mean she had to like hearing it.

He cheekily glared back at her through his black-rimmed spectacles. "Okay, fine. Has your dreamy lady-love vacated the premise?" Andy shot up and tried to smack him clumsily. "Nigel! What if somebody hears?" He held up his hand in fake surrender but the large, knowing grin on his face completely disarmed Andy and she sat back down with a pout. "I should have never told you!" He walked around to stand next to her. "Not like you could have hidden it from me." She snorted back at him. He was right, of course.

Nigel was the closest thing she had to a friend at RUNWAY. In the beginning she would rush into his office, usually in tears over something venomous Miranda had thrown at her, and without actually offering as much as comfort he had still always managed to make her feel better. He had also helped Andy to completely transform her appearance with a mind-blowing make-over, and had opened her eyes to the true depth and importance of the fashion industry. After the Paris debacle Andy had re-payed his kindness by being supportive and offering her shoulder in return. It had been on one of their frequent late-night office chats where she had accidentally let a goofy smile shoot out at the mention of Miranda.

With the aid of his "gay man intuition" he had latched right onto that, amused at first, but growing concerned later. He cared about Andy and did not want to see her get hurt. He also knew Miranda better than anyone else at the office, having worked for her for over a decade, and although he had admitted to Andy that the editor seemed to see something special in her, he had advised the girl to not get her hopes up. Andy, who still owned a healthy sense of realism, knew that she didn't stand a chance, and had resigned to admiration from afar and the occasional teasing from Nigel.

"She left just a few minutes ago, Nigel." He tilted his head at that. "Oh? But we still had a meeting planned to go over those proofs." Andy started to chew on her bottom lip. What should she tell him? Would he even believe her? "She felt unwell." Nigel gave her an incredulous look. They both knew Miranda never went home early simply because she might a feel unwell, so Andy quickly added, "we even had a nurse here and everything." The man regarded her quietly but seemed to accept it as the truth. He put a hand on his hip and glanced down at the girl with smirk. "What happened? Did you not keep your hands to yourself and she had to fake an injury to escape your clutches?"

They both chuckled, but for Andy it was more to cover up the fact that she was nearly choking. It had certainly not been her who had not kept their hands to themselves. Luckily Nigel seemed to misinterpret her sudden blush and just patted her shoulder. "Anyway, give her these portfolios tomorrow morning then." She nodded bravely and wished him a good-night before he had disappeared through one of the glass doors.

Andy stretched her arms above her head and flinched at the pain in her back. She must have pulled a muscle earlier. She wished the printing department would hurry up with the Book, so she could go home and have a hot bath. With a deep sigh she turned back to her computer and began to reschedule the meeting with Nigel, answer two emails from RUNWAY Japan and google "Restless Leg Syndrome" to find out that it could also apply to arms. She was writing down some of the information when Brad from Printing pushed through the doors and walked over to hand her the Book.

"Here you go, Andy. Nice and early for a change." Andy glanced at her watch. Quarter past eight, not bad. "Thanks Brad," she smiled at him and proceeded to log off. "No problem. Enjoy your evening, Andy." She smirked. Oh she would. "You too, Brad." Tonight she'd take that hot bath, put on some Chopin and open a bottle of wine and relax. After today she certainly deserved that.

She stood and walked to the closet to retrieve her own coat and bag. Not only did she deserve it, she also needed it. Miranda's touches had left her wound-up. Her earlier worry for the editor had clouded that part of her at the time, however now that her concern was slowly fading, the memory of that hand on her body dominated her nerve-endings and sent a pleasant tingle down her spine. All she had to do was deliver the Book without any incidents and she'd finally get to go home and "relax".

She was not too worried about running into Miranda in the town house. The assistant's job was to drop the Book and the editor's dry-cleaning off in the hallway and Miranda was usually upstairs. She grabbed the Book and proceeded toward the elevator. On the way down she closed her eyes in an attempt to block out the sensation of Miranda's hand on her thigh. It was useless. By the time she walked through the lobby her mind was already trailing into images of what would have happened if she had not moved away from the floor.

Outside she slid into the back of the waiting car and released an annoyed sigh at the pulsing between her legs. She rolled her eyes and considered she could have also ended up with a fist in her gut. That thought kind of stifled her rampaging hormones and she leaned heavily back into the seat.

"Rough day?" the driver asked, briefly glancing at her in the rear-view mirror. "Yes, something like that." She gave a tired smile and turned her gaze out of the window. She usually enjoyed talking with the drivers, but she hoped he'd get the hint to leave her to her thoughts tonight. To her relief he said nothing else and pulled into the evening traffic. She wondered if Miranda had gone to bed already, or if she had consulted her private physician. Andy sincerely hoped that whatever was going on, would not cause permanent damage or prolong any pain for the older woman. Andy knew her attraction for her boss was explosive at times, but she also cared deeply for the woman, worrying for her and wishing to see her healthy and happy.

Well, she could not actually picture Miranda happy. Not really. She'd seen contentment and a few flickers of affection when the editor spoke with her daughters, but true happiness seemed to be alien when it came to Miranda. Andy sighed. Or maybe she was just not allowed to look that far into the woman's private life, no matter how hard she wished she were.

When she arrived at the town house Andy was a bundle of sexual frustration and worried confusion and she needed to concentrate to actually stick the key into the front door. The building was completely quiet and she had to fight the urge to tip-toe into the hallway. Her heels clacked against the marble floor and she hurried to open the closet door to her left. She leaned in to hang up the dry-cleaning when she heard the editor's low voice from the direction of the downstairs sitting room.

"Andrea."

Andy quickly turned her head and saw Miranda holding onto the frame of the doorway, carrying what would normally pass as a blank expression, but in the case of the editor, looked more like a grimace. Startled by her appearance Andy missed the coat rack and felt the hanger with the dry-cleaning slide from her hands. She reacted quickly to successfully catch it but pain shot through her back at the sudden movement and she yelped.

"Andrea, are you alright?" The editor asked as she was stepping forward. Andy managed to hang the clothes, properly this time, and shut the closet door. "I'm sorry, Miranda. I just pulled something, I think." She absentmindedly massaged her shoulder blade when Miranda stopped a few feet in front of her. Andy handed her the Book and the other woman accepted it without removing her eyes from her assistant.

They quietly regarded each other for a while and Andy saw Miranda's knuckles turn white as she held on tightly to the Book. "Uhm, I should go. Goodnight Miranda." She turned around, still rubbing her back, and started to walk toward the front door. The sudden sound of stumbling heels made her freeze. A warm hand collided with her back and clamped down on her muscles. Andy heard the woman behind her curse under her breath and she slowly turned her head toward the editor.

Miranda was blushing furiously and aiming her eyes accusingly at the hand on Andy's back. "Miranda?" Andy heard her voice tremble slightly because the fingers had begun to gently rub against at tight knots in her muscles. She watched the older woman press her lips into a thin line and roll her eyes toward the ceiling when her hand became a bit more forceful. It hit the source of Andy's discomfort and the assistant released an involuntary moan that forced her eyes closed.

When she opened them again, she found Miranda regarding her with a shocked expression. Her mouth had parted and she slowly sunk her teeth into her bottom lip. Andy felt her chest swell at the view. Miranda looked vulnerable and confused and it broke Andy's heart. She gently reached to still the editor's hand and pulled it down between them.

"I'm so sorry," the editor whispered, emotion colouring her unsteady voice. Andy stroked the back of Miranda's hand with her thumb and shook her head. "No, it's okay Miranda. No reason to be sorry." She gave a tentative smile, trying to hide the storm raging through her body, and leaned forward to gently brush her lips against the older woman's right cheek. "I will see you tomorrow." And with that she let go of the editor's hand and walked to the door.

Before she closed it behind her, she risked a last glance, and saw the other woman standing in the middle of the large hallway, flushed, with glassy eyes, clutching the Book to her chest with her left arm and her right hand resting against the spot where Andy had just kissed her.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Miranda was flying past luscious mascarpone fields. Below her, a small stream of scolding hot latte trickled its way through biscuits, down a vanilla hillside and melted the creamy soil into delicious puddles. She wasn't aware of a sun, but felt enveloped by a cozy warmth all around her as she glided down and landed in the softness with her bare feet. The aroma of coffee and Italian liquor seduced her nose and she felt herself giggle like a silly child.

A few yards further down a person was sitting in the field, half covered by the cream. Miranda walked closer and her feet made funny noises as they disappeared below the gooey ground. "Oh, hello Andrea," she purred. The girl looked up at her with her big chocolate eyes and gave a sweet smile in return. Miranda sat down in the warmth next to Andrea and realized that neither of them were wearing any clothes, their nakedness covered by expensive Italian cream-cheese and coffee.

She leaned closer and raised her right index finger to wipe some cocoa powder off the girl's nose, but instead she left a trail of mascarpone. Miranda laughed. They could not leave it like that, of course, so she moved in and cleaned up the mess with a long, sensual stroke of her tongue. Andrea giggled and batted her eyelashes at the older woman. "That tickles!"

Miranda felt warm and giddy, and she lowered her head to lick at the girl's lips. Andrea parted them in a moan and the editor could slip her tongue into the soft, wet mouth. It tasted of amaretto and happiness and Miranda pressed forward until they were lying down in soft creaminess, their bodies meeting in a squishy song. The girl kissed her back hungrily and a sticky thigh slipped between Miranda's legs. They both moaned and Miranda's entire world came crashing down in big swirls of coffee-flavoured sweetness.

She woke with a groan and blinked against the harsh darkness of her empty room. She was still warm and cozy, though and she felt the urge to purr. Hmmm, she felt very nice indeed. Half-drowsy with sleep she grinned and wriggled languidly into the mattress. Then suddenly she realized that her right hand was deeply buried between her legs and she sat up and immediately withdrew her fingers, gasping at the loss of contact.

The contents of the dream slowly sunk in and her heart began to pound wildly as she flexed her soaked hand. Images of her naked assistant, covered in tiramisu and arching into her touch buzzed through Miranda's head. There was a reason why carbohydrates before bedtime were bad for you! She groaned and stroked through her hair as she looked at the alarm clock. Nearly six a.m., she might as well get up, and take a very cold shower.

She tossed the covers to the side and stood, painfully aware of the stickiness between her thighs. She could not even remember the last time she had woken up from a dream like this. Miranda didn't bother to put on her bathrobe, and padded into the en-suite bathroom. The few nights a year her daughters were away Miranda liked to sleep naked. There was no risk of twins jumping under the covers in the morning and she secretly enjoyed the feel of silk all over her bare skin. She had never felt comfortable enough to sleep nude with any of her husbands, but when she was alone it gave her a sense of freedom and controlled indulgence. Hmmm, she would have to tell the housekeeper to change the sheets today.

She turned on the lights, stood before the floor-to-ceiling mirror and squinted at herself. Had she really just had an incredibly erotic dream about her two-decade-younger assistant? Her reflection stared back at her with sleepy eyes, tousled hair and a faint blush to the cheeks. She certainly did not look bad for her age, she was aware of that, but a beautiful, young girl like Andrea would never want to be with her in that way. That was just preposterous. Her lungs began to swell at the thought of her assistant and she remembered the events of the previous day.

For some reason she had groped the girl four times in one evening and Andrea had reacted with nothing but kindness. She had even kissed her! The editor's hand shot to her cheek at the memory. Oh god. She thought about the recent months with her assistant, about the increased mutual trust between them, and the ease and efficiency with which they worked together. She smiled ruefully, they were a perfect team. She extended her bottom lip and blew out a deep sigh that lifted up the lock of silver hair dangling in front of her forehead. Right. Shower.

She stepped behind the glass and reached for the tab. Her right hand had already turned up the thermostat before she could set it to "cold". Well, it certainly still was as devious as the previous evening. Miranda was too dazed from her dream and the looming realization of what her assistant truly meant to her, to fight it, and so she surrendered and stood under the hot spray. Throwing back her head and leaning against the cold tiles she hugged herself as she felt her body relax with a shiver.

So. She had feelings for her young assistant. Her immediate thought of blaming it on a midlife crisis or the craziness of the previous day was brushed away when she thought about how she had felt drawn to Andrea since before Paris. She had always put it down to gratitude and appreciation toward the first person working for her, who was truly dedicated and competent. But it had been more than that. She had always appreciated the girl's natural beauty, and after her make-over and the riddance of those god-awful clothes, she had begun to pointedly look her up and down, every single day. It had become such a habit that Miranda hadn't given it any more thought. She had just kept on doing it.

Oh god, she had been ogling her assistant for months! Her pretty Andrea, with those large eyes, full lips, and flowing hips. She had paraded her around at benefits and even business dinners, like a prized possession. Her wonderful Andrea, who had let Miranda grope her, and watched her assault a nurse and had still rushed to her side in concern. Who had held her hand, twice and who had kissed her, on the cheek, with those incredibly soft lips.

Miranda's eyes snapped open as she felt her right hand trail down her body. It finally hit her that her it was acting on her suppressed urges. It had reacted to her attraction for the girl, to her secret wish to punch the nurse and even to her hidden desire for rich, Italian desserts. She remembered how she had cupped Andrea's cheek and it flooded her with tenderness. She cared deeply about her assistant. It had been her hand that had pulled her toward the hallway the previous night, and her hand that had jerked her forward to ease the pain in the girl's muscles.

The editor moaned against the water heavily cascading down on her face, as she felt her right hand slip between her still slick thighs. She would just let go and let it happen. It might end whatever the hell was going on. Maybe if she fully gave in to her urges, her hand would return to normal. She bucked her hips as two fingers entered her and she recalled images of a naked Andrea, in a field of soft, warm tiramisu. She heard her own voice echo off the walls as her breath left her in ragged gasps and her head fell against the tiles with a thud. Her devil hand really knew what it was doing and within seconds she felt herself get picked up and slammed violently into a whirlpool of bliss.

Her back was arching painfully and she had to move her head away from the water in order not to suffocate. She slowly withdrew her hand and was relieved to feel in full control of it again. Leaning back against the wall she waited for her breath to calm and briefly reveled in the intense afterglow. She had never touched herself this way. She had tried, but had never been very inspired. Passion had never mattered before. Her husbands had certainly never instilled such feral need in her. Miranda aimed her eyes at the ceiling in an accusing gaze.

Not that she believed in a deity, but was this god's sick idea of a joke? She was fifty years old and only now did she realize that she might be attracted to women? She knew it wasn't unheard of to find your true self this late in life, but her? Miranda Priestly? Surrounded by gay men and undressed models nearly every day? How could she have never even questioned it? She compared the grey blur of her past relationships with men, with her feelings for Andrea and the raw desire the dream had opened her up to. It was the difference between a pair of ugly Birkenstock's and her favourite red Prada heels.

Of course she'd had feelings for her husbands, she had loved them in her own way. However when she thought of Andrea, that bright mind and high intellect, her strong confidence and incredible kindness, her affectionate smiles and that big heart, Miranda knew that for the very first time in her life, she was in love.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Andy plopped down into her chair with a heavy sigh. It was not even seven a.m. yet and she was already at work. The hallways had been dark and empty and Andy had welcomed the quiet walk to her desk. She hadn't gotten any rest last night and her head seemed to be floating in a fluffy haze. Usually she had no trouble sleeping. Even on late nights she could always snuggle into her bed with delicious thoughts involving Miranda, which would relax her and lull her into a soft cocoon that let her sleep through anything. Indulging in her attraction in her own home always did the trick. It was safe, it was private, and it was easy to control. It allowed Andy to keep her heart in check because she knew that she stood no chance with Miranda, and keeping that in the back of her mind had become an essential survival skill.

However all that had come crashing down after the events of the previous day. Miranda had touched her! At first Andy had been convinced that the editor's hands had grabbed her chest and thigh purely by accident. However Miranda had also tenderly cupped her cheek and in the town house she had even attempted to give her a backrub. The look in her eyes then had been confused and apologetic, as if she had feared for Andy to reject or lash out at her.

The girl's reply in form of a kiss on her cheek had not exactly come out of nowhere, either. Her heart had been ripped wide open at the change crossing Miranda's features after she had taken her hand and stroked it. It had reached deep within her and demolished that big concrete dam Andy had built to keep her feelings separate from her groin.

By the time she had left Miranda's house, her body and soul had been flooded by a tidal wave of raw emotions, and she had been in a buzz when she had finally arrived at her lonely apartment. For some reason touching herself had been out of the question. The connection she had just felt with the older woman was still too real, too close and Andy had believed she'd be somehow violating the memory of it if she were to follow her normal, nightly Miranda-appreciation routine. So she had resigned to tossing and turning in her bed, dropping in and out of light slumber, and frequently startling into wakefulness with renewed confusion and heartache. Shortly after four a.m. she had surrendered to the new day and gotten up to take a frustrated shower.

Andy sighed and turned on her mac to start going through the day's schedule. Miranda wasn't due until nine but you never knew, the editor had come in early on many occasions. Or maybe she wouldn't come to work at all today. After checking her blackberry to make sure there was no message from her boss' driver, Andy exhaled in relief and leaned back into her chair. Theoretically she still had two hours, although she was not sure she could handle sitting here by herself, her tired mind defenseless against the many thoughts that were raging through her head.

She needed to know Miranda's intentions. She was still too careful to really hope that the older woman was seriously coming on to her. She had not seemed very willing to initiate any of the touches, and there was also still the matter of nearly knocking out a nurse. It was all very uncharacteristic for the editor. What if Miranda was slowly losing her mind, or she was seriously sick? Andy had heard about brain tumors completely altering a person's behavior and the thought of Miranda needing to be on the verge of death in order to notice her assistant in that way had Andy fighting tears.

Oh god, she was exhausted. She crossed her arms on the desk and rested her forehead on top. Maybe if she just closed her eyes for a few seconds, things would look better. The phone was lying right next to her so the driver's alert of Miranda's impending arrival would jolt her awake. Andy's breath slowed down and before she knew it, she fell asleep. Her dreams were intense and filled with horrible scenarios of Miranda rejecting her, humiliating her or punching her in the stomach with a cold sneer plastered on her face.

She woke with a start and lifted her head to stare at her wrist watch. Ugh, quarter to eight. Crap, she had just dozed off for nearly an hour. Luckily she didn't hear any noises so she was sure nobody else had made it into the office yet.

"Good morning."

Complete and utter terror took hold of her body at the editor's soft voice coming from right above her. Oh god! How could she have slept through her phone? How could she not have heard the tell-tale clacks of her boss' heels in the hallway? Bracing herself for the apocalypse, Andy raised her head and slowly took in the image of Miranda. She stood before her desk, dressed in her black, fur-trimmed suede coat, and was still wearing her dark sun glasses. There was a small flush to her cheeks and her lips were slightly parted, as if at a loss of what to make of the sleepy figure in front of her.

Before Andy could muster words of apology, the older woman placed a large Starbucks paper cup on Andy's desk and sped into her office. For a few seconds Andy could only blankly stare at the coffee. Her brain simply refused to work under the onslaught of exhaustion, raw emotion and total and utter confusion. When she finally shook herself out of it, Andy quickly checked her phone and to her surprise she had no new messages. Hesitantly she reached for the cup and pulled it up for a sniff. Was that... caramel she smelled? This was getting weirder and weirder.

Andy set the coffee back down and stood from her chair. She'd better pull herself together and do her job. Some kind of normalcy would maybe do her some good. Miranda was elegantly shrugging out of her coat when Andy arrived at the doorway. "Good morning, Miranda. I'm really sorry about... here, let me take your coat," she rambled and dashed to the editor's side to take the heavy garment. It was still warm and smelled of Miranda and although it was one of Andy's secret daily pleasures to hang her boss' coat, today it threatened to push her over the edge.

Miranda removed her sunglasses and handed over her bag as well. Andy refused to look her in the eye and quickly turned to hang the older woman's things in the outer office, when Miranda softly called after her. "Andrea, when you're done, come back in and shut the door behind you." Crap, that was it. She'd get fired for sleeping on her job. Steeling her shoulders, and putting on a grave expression, she walked back into the office to see the editor lean against the front of her glass desk. She looked so beautiful that for a moment Andy forgot her impending doom. Miranda was wearing an aubergine sweater and a black skirt that softly flared out just above her knees. The soft lines of her calves, sharpened by a black pantyhose, dipped down into four-inch-high Prada heels.

Andy closed the door and she swallowed hard before she stood in front of her boss. "Sit down, Andrea." Miranda motioned to the chair in front of her and Andy gingerly took a seat. To her amazement the editor suddenly sat down on the desk and crossed her legs. The girl silently gulped and tried to focus. She knew there was no point in trying to defend herself, Miranda never wanted to be bothered with excuses or inane details of one's failures. So instead she dropped her eyes to the hands fidgeting in her lap and said, "thank you... for the coffee."

There was no response and Andy was trying to imagine what the older woman's face looked like as she was likely thinking of ways to reprimand or, god forbid, fire her incompetent assistant. Overcome by curiosity, Andy raised her eyes and nearly choked when all she saw was a small but sweet smile on Miranda's lips. "You're welcome."

The editor's voice sounded timid, and her hands were restlessly gripping at the edge of the desk, but her eyes remained on Andy. "I got you the... caramel pumpkin special. I hope you like it." The girl's eyes went wide. What? Miranda was feeding her sugar? She searched the blue eyes for some kind of hint as to what the other woman was thinking, and watched the editor's gaze drop to the floor in an attempt to escape scrutiny.

"Andrea, I need to ask you something," her left hand moved to rub her lower back and Andy tried to remember if she had ever seen Miranda fidget before. "When you answer me, I need you to be completely... honest with me." At that she looked back at her assistant, her eyes serious. "It will have no negative consequences for your job, I assure you. So please," it seemed as if Miranda was aware of the significance of that word coming from her own lips, "Please, tell me the truth."

The girl could only nod. That vulnerable look was back in Miranda's eyes. It was very unusual and it scared and excited her at the same time. The older woman took a deep breath and dipped her head to the left, as if to carefully contemplate her words. "Yesterday I acted very..." she raised her left hand to gesture in front of her chest, "... uncharacteristically." Blue eyes seemed to expect a response so Andy gave another nod. Miranda's hand played with the neckline of her shirt when she continued. "You reacted very kindly... to everything." She bit her bottom lip and continued to gaze at her assistant. Andy's heart pounded as she replayed yesterday's scenes and she felt her cheeks flush at the memory of holding Miranda's hand.

"I want to know why," the older woman raised her chin and looked down at Andy with slightly narrowed eyes. "Uhm... why?" Andy wasn't exactly sure what she was being asked. "Yes. Why were you so sweet to me after I had practically... assaulted you?" At the last part Miranda turned her gaze back to the carpet and shyly rubbed the back of her neck.

Andy quickly leaned forward to defend her boss' actions to the woman herself. "You did not assault me! You... you had fallen... and I think there was something wrong with your right arm... and..." She was interrupted by Miranda's right index finger against her lips. The older woman looked slightly startled but then offered a weak sigh and used her left hand to remove her fingers from Andy.

"I'm sorry, I guess I did not ask this correctly..." she pulled her right arm into her lap and studied it. "What I meant was... did you react the way you did..." she rubbed circles with her left thumb across her right wrist, "... because you see it as part of your job..." she glanced back up at Andy, "... or because you care about me?" The girl's breathing sped up when she saw the longing look in Miranda's eyes. She was definitely not imagining it and hope welled up in her chest, setting her mind on high alert. She could lose everything if she gave the wrong answer, despite the editor's earlier assurance. However the plea for complete honesty and the look Miranda was sending her now, gave Andy enough courage to lean forward.

"Because I care about you. More than you could ever know." The older woman's lips parted in a gasp as Andy took hold of her right hand and squeezed it tenderly. They gazed at each other intensively and Andy felt herself get gripped by tentative happiness. She needed to be careful, if she misinterpreted Miranda's intentions now, it would kill her. She searched the editor's eyes and found a warmth she had never seen there before. The older woman's chest gently heaved with the deep, steadying breaths she took and Andy was mesmerized by how human and beautiful she looked. It broke down the last of her defenses and she knew if Miranda turned her down now, she would surely shrivel up and die.

The ringing phone on Miranda's desk startled them out of their mutual daze. Andy pulled her hand away and moved back in the chair. Without breaking eye contact with her, Miranda uncrossed her legs to turn and reach behind her and answer the phone. "Yes?... No, she hasn't..." An eyebrow was raised at Andy. "I will look at them." And with that she hung up and gripped the desk again with both hands as she leaned forward. Her lips were pursed and she raised her chin, exposing her long, creamy neck. Andy was temporarily mesmerized until she suddenly remembered.

Oh crap! Andy had forgotten all about about Nigel! Ashamed of yet another slip, the assistant lowered her gaze to her knees. "Uhm, I still need to give you the portfolios Nigel left with me yesterday." She nervously fiddled with her hands "I also had to reschedule your meeting, to go over the proofs, to nine-thirty this morning." Andy closed her eyes at having to admit to yet another failure. "He came by last night but I... kind of forgot to mention..." She was abruptly cut off when a strong hand gripped behind her neck, pulling her forward. The sudden sensation of Miranda's mouth on hers forced her eyes open and she stared into shocked blue ones. Neither of them moved their lips, but the older woman's hand kept them pressed together.

Andy felt like she was about to faint from Miranda's proximity. Their noses were touching and Miranda smelled so heavenly that it sent an instant ripple of pleasure down her spine. She had to close her eyes again at the feeling of the strong fingers beginning to rub the base of her skull and she couldn't wait any longer. Slowly at first she moved her lips against the editor's stiff ones, placing tiny kisses on the thin line of her mouth. The hand on her head wandered into her hair, rubbing against her scalp in long, firm strokes. Then she felt Miranda exhale forcibly through her nose and finally kiss her back. It was a soft and tender kiss, tentative and sweet. Andy imagined they must have looked quite the pair, Miranda bending down from her position on the desk, across her dangling legs and hanging forward to grab at her assistant who, in turn, was nearly falling out of her chair.

Their lips made little smacking noises and Andy felt like she was about to implode from the sensory overload when Miranda quietly moaned against her. She wanted to reach up and touch the other woman's face but their mouths danced so slowly and lightly that she was too amazed to move anything but her lips. After a while she felt the hand on the back of her head slow down and gentle its touch. There was no urgency in it anymore and it was now simply caressing her tenderly. Then it stilled and Miranda fully withdrew it as she pulled away from the kiss.

She immediately moved to sit on her hand and glanced down at Andy, an unreadable expression on her flushed face. However her eyes were sparkling and her lips were slightly parted as she panted softly. Andy was contemplating that she should definitely freak out but once she reached up to touch her own lips, not quite believing that she had just kissed Miranda, she only felt giddiness rush to her head and suddenly she broke out in giggles. The editor closed her mouth and narrowed her eyes at the girl but to Andy's delight, the corners of her lips curled upward and settled into a shy grin.

Andy was struck by the vision. She wanted to make Miranda smile more often. Preferably every single day. And after kissing her. She grinned back at the editor who stood up and walked around her desk to sit in her chair. They gazed at each other until Miranda grew serious and lowered her head to the stack of photos on her desk. "Oh, right!" Andy shot up and dashed to open the door. She swiftly retrieved the portfolios from her own desk and handed them to the editor. "Here you go." The older woman placed the folders on the desk and started going through them. The still hovering girl made her look up.

The small pout Andy knew she was sporting drew Miranda's attention and after a few seconds the editor gazed back into her eyes with a small smirk. "Andrea, you should drink your coffee before it gets cold." She raised an eyebrow at her assistant and then turned back to her work, so Andy walked reluctantly back toward the outer office to sit behind her own desk and picked up the coffee. When she had taken a sip, closing her eyes at the sweetness engulfing her mouth, she heard a soft whisper from the door. "Is it good?"

Andy blinked at Miranda's silver head peeking around the door frame and nearly chocked. "Uhuh," she swallowed the hot liquid and added a breathless "Thank you." The editor nodded briefly and was about to move away when she seemed to remember something. "Oh, and Andrea, make lunch reservations for two at that place you like. Twelve-thirty." And with that her head was gone and Andy heard her sit back down at the desk.

Holy crap! They had kissed! And soon they would have lunch together! Andy frowned. That is what Miranda had meant just now, right? She pictured them at a romantic little Italian place, with candle light and cheesy music. The room seemed to spin and she quickly gulped down more of her coffee, hoping that the hot beverage would bring her back to reality. She had work to do. Now was not the time to dwell on the fact that Miranda had brought her coffee, had grilled her about her intentions and had then proceeded to kiss her. Andy grinned and turned to check her mailbox, while bobbing her head along the rhythm as she internally chanted Miranda and Andy, sitting in a tree, K I S S I N G...!


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Miranda sat back down in her chair and unsuccessfully tried to focus on the portfolios in front of her. The day had barely begun and in a matter of a the last few hours she had figured out that she was probably a lesbian, hopelessly in love with a girl, who was not only twenty-five years younger, but also her assistant, and who apparently... liked her back. A smile wandered onto her lips. Yes, she had also smiled more in the first few hours of this day, than she had in months.

After her eventful shower she had decided that she would accept her feelings and let them guide her. She had not seen a chance that the girl would requite her love, but Andrea had been nothing but sweet and kind to Miranda over the past months, especially last night, and at the very least the girl might have shown an interest in friendship. Once she had realized exactly how much she cared for her young assistant, Miranda had vowed to herself to spend as much time with her as possible. Not that she didn't already do that, but it felt different once she had actually understood and accepted the depth of her affection.

It was a true revelation of exactly what she had been missing all her life. She had often thought that she simply wasn't made to love in a romantic way. Of course she felt strong maternal love for her daughters, no matter how hard she found it to actually let them see her affection. Love for another adult, however, had always been a grey, blurry zone to Miranda, and she had come to believe that something inside of her was broken. Her ex-husbands had certainly accused her of that, many times. Miranda sniffed. If they could see her now, glowing like a Christmas tree, going out of her way to do pedestrian things like fetching coffee, just to put a smile on her assistant's face.

Even her driver Roy, who had been through a fair share of his boss' crazy demands, had looked at her completely flabbergasted when she had ordered him to take her to the nearest Starbucks and to refrain from notifying Andrea about her early arrival. Inside the coffee house she had stood patiently in line, and had felt extremely nervous when she could not decide which coffee her assistant would want. She had asked the barista for "something sweet for a hardworking young woman" and the boy behind the counter had recommended their autumn special. Miranda Priestly never wasted time pondering what other people were feeling or thinking. However when she had sat in the back of her car, sipping her own skimmed-milk latte and cradling the caramel coffee for Andrea, she had been buzzing with anticipation, uncertain of how the girl would react.

When she had stepped into the outer office and found her assistant sleeping on the desk, her back rising and falling evenly, she had known that if she needed to, she'd get coffee for this girl every day, for the rest of her life. Standing this close to Andrea, such a short while after having had that dream and understanding the depth of her feelings, had sent a rush of overpowering affection through her and she had needed to restrain her hand from reaching out and touching the girl. When her assistant had woken up and stared at her with those deep, brown eyes, laden with sleep, and a small imprint on her cheek from where she had rested it on her wrist watch, Miranda had been rendered completely speechless and had barely been able to set down the coffee and escape into her office.

Words meant power, and having finally put the correct words to what had been brewing inside of her for months, had given those feelings extra strength and they had threatened to derail her. She had been aware, right then, that she needed to know how the girl felt about her. She had needed to hear from Andrea's lips that she was only doing her job, and then Miranda would be able to try and move on. She had not dared to hope that the girl would actually say that she cared about her. She had not expected her to hold her hand and look at her with those eyes, overflowing with affection, and she had certainly not anticipated their sudden kiss.

Miranda pursed her lips. As nice as it had felt, she wasn't sure she liked the way it had started. She had certainly not imagined their first kiss to be initiated by her disobedient hand, and Miranda felt kind of cheated. When she had involuntarily pulled the girl so roughly against her mouth, she had nearly suffered a heart attack, being completely certain that her assistant would push her away and call security. When Andrea had begun to actually move her lips against her it had been so soft and light, that Miranda hadn't at all been sure whether it was really happening.

And then she had finally pulled herself together and kissed her back and it had been the most wonderful feeling she had ever experienced. At that moment she had begun to truly trust that her assistant cared about her in ways that surpassed duty. Miranda had been so overwhelmed by the tender dance of their lips that she had completely let her guard down and had allowed herself to moan against Andrea. Kissing another woman for the first time was bound to feel different, but she had not been prepared for the warmth that would spread inside her chest and lift her up. It had been the first time in her life that she had truly felt a kiss as more than a technical sequence of movements. It had solidified her newly defined emotions, and although the earlier awoken sexual desire had shocked her already, it had been the promise of sweet love and tenderness in Andrea's lips that had truly taken hold of her heart.

The editor's lips broke into yet another smile as she remembered the blissful look on the girl's face after taking a sip from her coffee. Yes, she would definitely try to surprise Andrea more often, if that was the reaction she could expect.

The clearing of a throat shook her out of her pleasant thoughts, and immediately her bitch mask was back in place as her head shot up. "Is this a bad time?" Oh, it was only Nigel. He stood in the doorway with a puzzled look on his face and checked his watch. "She did tell you about our rescheduled meeting?" The editor quickly glanced at the clock on her desk and saw that it was shortly before nine-thirty. Had she really just spent all that time lost in thought? She hadn't even really looked at the portfolios. "Yes,... of course." She waved him over and began to spread out the stack of proofs.

"Now, what about the models... Patrick told me you weren't thrilled?" He stepped next to her chair and crossed his arms. The editor straightened her shoulders, took a deep sigh and concentrated on the photos. "Here, this one, for example." The art director leaned closer to regard the shot she was holding up. "She looks like a corpse. Her eyes are expressionless... and that body," she sniffed in disdain, "... well, it's not what I had envisioned for the Holiday spread. Who would get into the mood for fancy family dinners with a skeleton in a cocktail dress?" She heard the breath catch in Nigel's throat as he straighted and sent her a shocked look.

"Miranda Priestly, did you just call that model 'too skinny'?" She raised her chin and narrowed her eyes at him. "I can't comprehend how that is shocking. There is hardly anything 'festive' and 'warm' about this photo, she looks like she's at her own funeral." The editor flicked the photograph back on the pile. "Is it too much to ask for people to follow simple instructions? Give me a new model, with dark, warm eyes to pull the readers in... and make sure she's more around... let's say, a size four." The man stared at her for a moment until he suddenly raised his eyebrows. "A size four, you say? The new six?"

The editor sent another glare his way. Had he swallowed a stupid pill today? Usually Nigel was the only competent staff member other than Andrea, but today he seemed to be having troubles with doing what she asked. "Yes, four." Nigel gave her another look, as if contemplating whether to push the issue or not. "Hmmm, we have dropped a lot of the size zero girls in the past few months, haven't we?" Miranda turned her chair to fully face him and clasped her hands while her lips pursed impatiently. The art director nervously scratched his shaved head but continued. "You know, if you plan on overthrowing the general misconception of skinnier being better, I'm all on board. I just wish... you had told me sooner." Miranda had no idea what he was talking about.

"If I had known, I could have picked the models accordingly, which would have saved us some re-shoots and a lot of stress, not to mention money." Miranda thought about her recent choices as editor-in-chief, and she realized that she had indeed rejected a lot of shots based on the bodies of the models. She had already figured out that she did not find them aesthetically pleasing, but she had no idea why that had only started to matter recently. Then it dawned on her as she pictured Andrea's body and a profound flush gripped her cheeks. She had allowed her decisions to be influenced by her attraction to the girl? She averted her gaze from her colleague and attempted to clear the lump from her throat.

At the sound of the cough, her assistant darted into the room, quickly poured a glass of at the side table and then placed it on Miranda's desk. The editor looked up at the girl's sweet smile and realized that it did not bother her that Andrea was indirectly responsible for the new direction the magazine was apparently going. She could not comprehend how anyone could possibly not find her assistant attractive. If it meant she had to single-handedly change the fashion industry, so be it. Miranda leaned forward to reach for the glass and before she could stop herself she smiled and whispered a soft "thank you." Andrea nodded and walked back out to her desk, not hiding the obvious spring in her step.

After taking a sip to soothe her throat Miranda turned back to look at Nigel. He was staring at the now empty doorway and then slowly moved his gaze back to his boss. "No way!" His eyes went large and his brows threatened to ascent from his forehead. An ice-blue gaze narrowed down on him. "I beg your pardon?" His features softened but his eyes remained serious. "Miranda, I will only say this once, because I think it's out of line." The editor was not sure whether she should be apprehensive or angry about the direction this was headed. "I truly care about my little Six out there. A lot." Miranda furrowed her brows. What was he saying? "She's like the little sister I never had and she's sweet and innocent." Out of reflex she gave a small nod. Of course Andrea was innocent and sweet. And so many other things.

Nigel took a deep breath before leaning down and whispering, "if you break her heart, I will never forgive you. I will make sure you will never forgive yourself, either." Miranda's eyes grew wide. What? Had he just figured out that her and Andrea... wait. Had he just threatened her? She narrowed her eyes back at him but the seriousness in his face stopped her. He had truly meant it. How much did he know? Miranda was aware that the art director and her assistant were friends. Had Andrea confided in him about her feelings for her boss? She felt tendrils of jealousy inch toward her heart, but quickly shook them off, understanding that Nigel saw the girl as family and only looked out for her. She exhaled through her nose and gave him a strong, sincere look. "I won't." That was all he needed to know and he nodded.

"Nigel, you understand that this is strictly..." he interrupted her. "...confidential. Yes, I know. I'd never betray the trust of my two favourite ladies." His sincere smile sent a pang of guilt through Miranda. She still owed him for Paris and although she had kept her eyes open for possible promotions, she had not actively done her best, because she simply could not miss him. The following silence made Miranda uncomfortable and she was about to dismiss him with a customary "that's all", when, before she could open her mouth, her right hand jerked and pulled her up and out of her chair. She felt herself be catapulted forward until she collided with the art director.

To her utter shock, she realized she was hugging Nigel. He had immediately stiffened at the contact and was holding his breath, too afraid to move. Miranda had not meant to startle him so she slowly raised her left arm to fully squeeze his shoulders. "Thank you, Nigel." She pulled away and studied his frozen expression. He clearly had no idea what to say. Miranda never hugged anyone. She also did not make a habit of thanking people. Nigel slowly began to draw breath again and looked anywhere but at the editor. "Well... uhm... yes." Miranda had to smirk and finally relented. "That's all."

He hurried out of the office as if on fire and Miranda sat back down, unsure whether she had just jeopardized a work-relationship or gained a true friend. That damn hand would surely get her into trouble. She sighed, she could lose her job if the hand flew at the wrong person. She flinched as she remembered the many times she had wished to strangle Irv Ravitz, chairman and CEO of Elias-Clark. She also did not like the fact that all of her interactions with Andrea had been initiated by her hand, apparently triggered by her basic impulses. Miranda hated not being in control and she wanted her choices of touching the girl to be made consciously. She wanted everything to be special and a hand that acted on its own, whenever it pleased, would just ruin it all.

She glanced at the clock again and remembered that she had an editors meeting at ten. She really needed to concentrate on work now, no more excuses.

At noon, after two embarrassing meetings where Miranda's hand had smashed against the flat of the table in frustration and had later crumpled up a page of a particularly revolting layout under the terrified gazes of her employees, she made her way out of the office and walked toward the elevator with Andrea trailing behind her. When the doors opened she stepped inside and donned her trademark sunglasses. Her assistant waited, as was customary for anyone at Elias-Clark, who wanted to live to see another day. Miranda did not share elevators. The editor regarded the girl for a second and then her hand shot out to hold open the elevator doors. She wasn't sure if that had been her demon hand or a reflex, all she knew was that she wanted the girl close-by.

Andrea's eyes lit up and she quickly stepped to the older woman's side. The ride down was quiet and Miranda inhaled deeply as she smelled the girl's scent, a mixture of strawberries and caramel coffee. Her hand was twitching and she pinned it between her back and the elevator wall. No, not now! To her relief they had arrived at the lobby and quickly proceeded to walk to the waiting car. Andrea had rushed ahead to open the car door for her and Miranda tried very hard to suppress a smile at the thought that the girl had been doing this for a long time now, and she wondered how much of it had actually been motivated by her job. She settled down in her seat as her assistant slipped in from the other side to sit to her right.

When Roy pulled into traffic Miranda removed her sunglasses and pretended to shuffle in her seat to get comfortable. It was purely by accident, of course, that she inched further toward the middle of the backseat. Andrea must have noticed because she shyly scooted closer as well but kept looking out of the window, as if nothing was going on. The driver kept glancing in the rear-view mirror but if he thought anything strange of the unusual proximity of the editor to her assistant, he didn't let it show.

It was a secret only between them two, and Miranda felt a bit giddy as she slowly pushed her knee to the side to press against her assistant's. She felt Andrea gently push back and they began a game of knee-wrestling, or however one should call it. It was like a silent way of communicating and Miranda discovered that she thoroughly enjoyed being playful with the girl. She gave an extra strong push and Andy tricked her by faking a counter, but then pulling her knee away for a few seconds, before swinging it back ever so slowly. Miranda couldn't suppress a snort and Andy giggled at the same time. Roy shot them a startled look via the mirror but both women quickly gazed out of their respective windows, pretending like nothing had happened.

The editor felt as if life was flooding through her, fully, for the first time. She could not remember when she had last shared a joke or a laugh with anyone other than her daughters. The warmth of Andrea's legs radiated from beneath her Chanel dress and Miranda moved so that she was pressed even closer. They both still kept looking out of the windows and simply enjoyed sitting together. To the older woman's dismay the right hand which had been safely cradled in her lap just a minute ago, began to snake its way along the border between their legs and she felt, rather than heard, the girl gasp.

Why now? Of course she desired to touch Andrea, her hand wasn't lying, but she had really enjoyed their playfulness. She did not want to disrupt their sweet moment with something she had planned on doing later, in private. Her hand had other ideas, though, as it gently rubbed up along Andrea's thigh and snuck around the girl's lower back to pull her closer. From the corner of her eye, the editor saw her assistant send a worried look in the direction of the driver. Miranda hoped that her hand would behave, she did not want to grope the girl in the back of a car like a horny teenager.

When her hand slid down and gently cupped Andrea's right butt cheek, the older woman felt her heart speed up and heat gather in the pit of her stomach. No, no, no! Although she did enjoy the feel of the girl squirming into her palm she knew that now was neither the place nor the time for this. She wanted to take it slow, savor every moment, and her damn hand had become an insatiable little brat. She wondered how far they were away from the restaurant that Andrea had picked as they turned into a small side street. Her hand was now massaging the girl and her thumb kept sliding dangerously close to the area between the soft mounds.

Andrea was visibly fighting not to lose her composure and Miranda's heart was aching for her. She really did not want to do it this way. It didn't feel right. She wanted to touch Andrea by herself, and not having control over her hand's actions felt like it was somebody entirely else doing it. "Andrea," she whispered into the girl's ear, "please take hold of my hand." The assistant seemed confused for a short moment before she moved her own arm and gently placed her hand on Miranda's right wrist. The devious claw immediately stopped its assault on the girl's backside and Miranda exhaled in relief while gazing worriedly at Roy. Either he hadn't seen anything or he pretended not to notice.

Her arm still slung around her assistant's back, the editor tried to relax and simply enjoy the feeling of Andrea sweetly stroking across her palm. She turned back toward the window to pull her mind away from the sensation of the girl's soft butt in her hand and glanced over the many pedestrians that hurried on their way to cheap burgers and smelly wraps. Her gaze landed on a familiar figure, dressed in old rags and staring right at her, through the tinted windows, with a toothless, knowing grin.

Miranda jerked her arm away from Andrea and hissed at Roy to stop the car immediately. Both the driver and her assistant were started when, as soon as the Mercedes had come to a halt, she threw open the door and leaped outside, breaking into a half run into the direction she had seen the old woman disappear into. She hurried as fast as she could on her heels and for a moment she considered removing them. Something inside her told her that the old woman had something to do with her demon hand, and she needed to understand. She needed it to stop.

The sound of her heels harshly pounding on the concrete pavement echoed up the apartment buildings as she turned into a deserted ally. She realized she must be out of her mind to storm off, in her three thousand dollar coat, and run like a crazy woman on four-inch heels into the nearest backstreet. She slowed her steps when she realized that she was at a dead end. She frantically looked around for the old woman. The editor had definitely seen here turn into this ally. "Hello!" She fumbled with her purse and retrieved a fifty-dollar bill. "Here, you can have your coin, now. Just let me talk to you. Please!"

She spun around at the sound of laughter coming from behind a dumpster. Slowly the old woman appeared and moved into the light. "Well, well. If it isn't 'Miss Repression'." Miranda squared her shoulders. "I beg your pardon?" The woman moved closer and poked at the editor's right arm. "How do you like my little gift?" Miranda shot her a glare. "Little gift? Your 'little gift' is interfering with everything in my life! I might lose my job, or injure someone. Not to mention I might hurt the feelings of the people I care about!" Anger suddenly took hold of her. "So no, I do not like your little gift and I would appreciate it if you, kindly removed it!" She put her right hand on her hip and sent the woman the iciest gaze she could muster.

"Ah, and I was so sure by forcing you to act on all of your repressed desires, you would finally understand what, and who, was truly important. I thought you'd welcome the change." The old woman regarded her thoughtfully. "I was under the impression that you treated other people like trash, because you were unfulfilled in your own life." Miranda snorted, although she knew all too well that the shabby old woman was correct. "Well, I don't want this. My hand makes me act irrationally. It forces me to do things to people which make me uncomfortable. It makes me feel dirty and unlike myself and I wish for it to stop. Now."

The old woman looked at Miranda before focusing on something behind the editor. "And how about you? Do you also wish for it all to stop?" Miranda blinked and slowly turned around as her heart sank into her Prada heels. A few feet behind her stood Andrea, her lips parted, and her eyes shiny with thick tears that threatened to spill any moment. She hiccuped and she shoulders started shaking. "Is that true? Did you only do all those things, because you were under some kind of spell? Was none of it real?" Thick teardrops began to heavily roll down her cheeks as she looked at the editor with her large, pained eyes, and Miranda felt her heart break.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Andy felt numb, as if the life had just been sucked out of her. It had all been an illusion, Miranda had been under a spell and had felt disgusted by what it had made her do. Andy thought back at their kiss, the yummy coffee and their playful ride in the car and it all came crashing down in a large blow to her chest. Her vision blurred from the hot liquid gushing from her eyes and she could no longer make out Miranda or the strange old lady next to her. She could no longer hear anything beside the harsh thumping of blood in her ears and it felt like she was under water as it became difficult to breathe.

She knew that this was the moment when people in the movies always ran. The moment when all the hurt and anger became so much that all you could do was to storm off into the rainy night. It wasn't raining, though, and it was the middle of the day. Her legs wouldn't even carry her for a few yards. They were shaking and Andy knew she would not be able to stand up much longer. She had known all along that giving into hope, letting her feelings for the older woman take over and disregard all calls of caution from her brain, would be her downfall. Miranda Priestly was not known for taking care of people's hearts.

Her knees finally gave way and she felt gravity clutch at her and pull her down fast. She anticipated the impact against the harsh concrete with a sense of longing, wishing for the pain in her heart to take physical shape. However the pain never came. Instead she felt herself be enveloped in a warm embrace as strong arms gently lowered her to the ground. She did not want anybody to touch her and tried to struggle away but the arms held her tightly as she completely broke down in sobs. She didn't care that she was probably getting her pretty dress dirty, or that her make-up would get ruined, or what anybody that saw her might think.

The terror that struck her when she realized that Miranda had never actually spoken about her feelings, and that everything that had happened in the past two days, had been initiated by Miranda's hand, even their kiss, it took a hold of her and pressed her down with the weight of the entire planet. Andy wanted to die, she wanted the pain in her heart to end, and she knew not a single day was worth living if Miranda did not love her.

She felt herself be gently rocked from side to side and a warm hand rubbed against her back. Slowly her sobs subsided and her breathing calmed down. The tracks of her tears were cooling her cheeks and she began to shiver. Her brain seemed to have shut down and Andy was kind of confused as to where she was and what was happening. The cold air and the shock had her shaking and she instinctively clamped herself into the warm embrace.

"Andrea, my Andrea," was whispered into her hair and Andy felt like she recognized the smell surrounding her. It was sweet and spicy at the same time and it slowly lured her back into the present. She blinked away the last of her tears and took a shaky breath. A warm hand cupped her cheek to pull her chin upward and she found herself gazing into Miranda's shiny eyes. Despite everything, Andy was concerned. Why was the editor crying?

"Darling..." the older woman wiped at the wetness on Andy's cheek. "I care about you. So very much." The assistant wasn't sure what she was hearing. Miranda cared about her after all? But what about the things she had said just now, about the hand acting against her will? Andy felt another shiver run through her and Miranda let go of the girl to shrug out of her suede coat. The sweet warmth of the heavy garment being draped around her shoulders helped Andy calm down and she realized that the editor was kneeling in front of her, on the dirty, cold concrete with tear stains on her cheeks and she was holding Andy's face in her palm. Her left palm.

"Miranda..." her voice was husky and merely a whisper but the editor brushed her thumb over her lip to silence her. "Shh, it's alright. Everything will be alright." She pushed upward and come to stand in front of Andy. "Come now, we need to get you off the floor." The girl took the offered hand and let Miranda pull her up. She still felt weak but the editor immediately wrapped her arms around her again, to steady her, and they turned back toward the old woman in the ragged clothes.

The editor kept her voice low and accusative. "Do you see what this is causing? I wish to be close with the person I love, but on my own terms." Andy numbly felt a tight squeeze to her shoulders and the entwining of their fingers, but those words were buzzing like huge, bright neon advertisements in front of her eyes. Had Miranda just said love? "I understand that your little gift had me behave based on my own, true desires, but it should still be my own choice how I act on them." The editor continued. So everything Miranda had done to Andy in the past twenty-four hours had truly been coming from herself, albeit rather unrestrained. The sensation of heat traveling up her spine buzzed Andy fully awake and she slipped her arms around Miranda's waist.

"Miranda," she pulled her close and buried her face in a soft neck as they embraced. "Darling, I'm so sorry! I never meant to hurt you. I only wanted this," the editor held up her right hand, "to get fixed, so I'd stop touching you out of nowhere." Andy pulled away and gave her a sheepish look. "It did not really bother me that much." Miranda looked at her with a raised eyebrow so she quickly continued with a wink, "... but I would prefer it if you stopped punching people." She pulled Miranda back in for a hug and glanced over the editor's shoulder at the dirty woman behind them.

"Please lady, can you undo whatever you've done to my boss?" The old woman regarded her for a while but then nodded. "It's already done, child." Andy stepped back far enough to take a hold of the editor's right hand and gently stroked it while she glanced back up into deep blue eyes. "I have one more question," Miranda turned to the old woman who was scratching her matted hair absentmindedly. "When I had... episodes... and could not control my hand, Andrea's touch would stop it. Why is that?" A toothless smile was aimed back at her. "The desire to feel the girl's touch overpowered all your other urges."

Andy beamed at her boss and entwined their fingers when Miranda raised her left hand to stroke the girl's cheek. "We should get back, Roy must be worried." Andy nodded and turned to thank the old woman, however the spot where she had just stood, was empty. "Huh?" They looked around but there was no more sign of her. Unsure of whether she should even try to understand everything that had happened, or not even go there, Andy shook her head. Well, she was glad that Miranda was here with her now, holding onto her hand and gazing at her a bit shyly, but with love radiating through her blue eyes. She loved her and that was all that mattered. The editor began to move and tugged Andy along with her. "Come."

They walked back toward the more populated area where they had initially come from, and Miranda kept a firm grip on Andy's hand. The silver Mercedes was parked half-way on the sidewalk and as soon as Roy spotted them he approached in a near run. "Are you alright? Did anything happen?" Andy sent him a shy smile and wondered what he would make of them, with their smeared make-up, holding hands, and Andy wearing her boss' coat. Miranda sent him a sharp look and he didn't say anything else, and quickly moved to hold the car door open.

The editor slid in first and sat down right in the middle and when Andy climbed inside she was firmly pulled onto Miranda's lap and enveloped in a tight embrace. When Roy got into the driver's seat and saw them through the rear-view mirror, his eyes nearly popped out, however his training as a driver for the rich and famous quickly kicked in and he concentrated on his job. "Where to, mam?" Miranda pulled her head back and glanced at Andy. "Still up for lunch?" The girl nodded and the editor ordered Roy to continue to their initial destination.

During the ride the older woman retrieved some tissues from one of the seat pockets and began to clean the smeared mascara off Andy's cheeks. The girl stared with big eyes as Miranda moistened the corner of one of the wipes with the tip of her tongue and proceeded to gently rub at Andy's tear stains. The girl was overcome by the tenderness in the editor's gaze and leaned closer to nuzzle her nose. They remained like this for a while, their noses touching and their breaths mingling until ever so slowly Miranda sought out Andy's lips in a kiss.

This time it was less shy and more firm, their mouths seeking each other out in a need for reassurance and in order to mend their shaken hearts. The editor pulled her assistant closer, keeping her from sliding off her lap every time the car came to a stop at a traffic light, and Andy had wrapped her arms around Miranda's neck in a lose embrace that allowed her to gently trail her fingers through the older woman's soft hair. Before Andy could muster the courage to lick at the editor's lips, Roy cleared his throat.

The two women pulled apart and Andy realized they were already at the restaurant. She used her thumb to wipe off any remaining mascara from Miranda's face, which caused the older woman to smile sweetly and comb through Andy's bangs in return. Andy then glided onto the seat next to the editor and looked at Roy. His face was red as he met her eyes in the mirror and he quickly got out of the car to open the door for them. Miranda stepped out first but waited for her assistant and they walked to the entrance side-by-side.

Andy had picked a small, but exclusive Italian place that specialized in steaks and salads. It was family-run and had a reputation for excellent service and discretion when it came to their more famous customers. They were promptly seated at a table in the back of the restaurant, which had a direct view out onto the small courtyard. When they sat across from each other Andy felt a bit shy and opened the wine card to partially hide behind it, so that only her eyes peeked over the rim. Miranda raised an eyebrow and her lips curled into a slight smirk. The girl realized they were in public now, and although she wanted to continue their playful flirting, she was sure that Miranda would prefer to keep it more professional.

Despite the earlier indirect declaration of love, they still had not spoken about the terms of their new relationship. In the first place they were still a boss and her assistant. Andy lowered the wine card and grew serious. "What's the matter?" Miranda shot her an uncertain look. "No, it's nothing..." the girl looked down at the list of wines, "... I'm just a little unsure about... you and me..." she glanced around the place, "...in public." Miranda's face softened and she leaned slightly forward. "Yes, I understand. We will need to discuss this, and a great deal of other things in detail. Later." Relief eased the tension in her chest and Andy nodded when they were approached by the waiter.

The editor ordered a steak and her assistant chose the house salad. Andy had eaten with Miranda before, at the many business dinners, however it had never been just the two of them. They ate their lunch while discussing the roman statues that lined the courtyard. Andy was glad that she had taken art history classes in college, back then inspired by her friend Lily. After Nate had left, so had their mutual friends, and Andy had kind of missed having intellectual talks about sculptures and paintings, or about the latest photography hotshot. Miranda was like a walking encyclopedia when it came to anything that remotely had to do with art and design and the girl enjoyed the passion with which the editor talked about classicism and how she had thought about a themed spread for the magazine.

When they had finished their meal their plates were cleared and the waiter inquired if they were having dessert. Andy shook her head, knowing that Miranda did not really tolerate her employees eating sweet things, plus she'd already had that large caramel coffee this morning. "We will be sharing one serving of tiramisu." Andy gaped at the other woman in shock. What? Miranda would be eating a dessert? Oh god, she had to see that. Wait. She had said they would share. The image of the two of them eating from the same plate sent a pleasant ripple down her spine and she smiled at the editor, who for some reason sported a slight flush to her neck.

A single plate with a small portion of the Italian dessert arrived and they each picked up their spoon. Andy still wasn't convinced that she was honestly allowed to dig in and she shot a questioning look at Miranda. The editor just looked back at her through lowered lids and rested her chin on clasped hands. Okay, here goes nothing, Andy thought and took a spoonful and raised it to her mouth. Did she just imagine it or did Miranda's breathing slightly increase? She placed the spoon in her mouth and had to close her eyes at the delicious flavour. Oh wow this was good. When she opened her eyes again she saw a flushed editor gazing at her, chest heaving and lips parted in a slight gasp.

"Miranda, are you alright? You look... hot." Andy realized that the wording must have been a bit funny, but that didn't explain why the flush on the older woman's cheeks suddenly increased. "You should try it, it's very good." Miranda only nodded and Andy was confused. What was going on? She took another spoonful and slowly licked off the creamy goodness. Yes, something was definitely wrong with Miranda, she was fidgeting now. The girl wondered if the older woman was afraid to eat carbs and did not want to give into such a temptation in front of an employee. Then again, this wasn't a work-related lunch.

Andy loaded another spoon with tiramisu but instead of raising it to her own mouth she held it out in front of Miranda. The girl was sure her boss would decline, if not for the sugar, surely being fed would be the limit. So it was to her utter surprise when she watched the editor lean forward and ever so slowly close her lips around the spoon, pulling the desert off as she closed her eyes in delight. That certainly was the most erotic thing Andy had ever seen the other woman do. She would have to file that image away for later, when she was alone in bed... or maybe, later would not be necessary any more. The thought that she might embark on physical adventures with Miranda, far beyond the tender kisses in the back of a car, built up inside her abdomen and when the older woman opened her eyes again, Andy saw nothing but raw, unmasked desire.

"Andrea, have dinner with me tomorrow." Andy snapped out of her haze. "What?" Miranda smirked at her eloquence and reached out to pile the last bits of their dessert onto her spoon. "The twins wanted to have a Halloween dinner, but it would be... nicer... if we had a guest." She held out her spoon to Andy and the girl hesitantly wrapped her lips around the dessert, her eyes never leaving Miranda's. She could not suppress a moan. "Hmmm. Yes..." she swallowed down the food. "I'd love to." The editor's eyes had become incredibly dark when she slowly lowered the spoon, as if in a daze. "Good."

Their ride back to RUNWAY was quiet and full of titillating tension. They had somehow mutually but wordlessly agreed to give the driver a break and simply sat next to each other, close enough for their entire sides to touch, but this time they both kept their hands to themselves. Soon they would have to be back at work, attend meetings, and face their colleagues. It felt kind of unreal to Andy and she wondered what it would be like, still working for Miranda, but also spending time with her, privately and... romantically. Well, ideally nothing would really change. They were still a great team and Andy could anticipate Miranda's every need. However it would also be different, because now they were both aware of each other's feelings.

Inside the building Miranda quietly ordered Andy to ride the elevator with her again and while they stood shoulder to shoulder the older woman reached down and briefly squeezed the girl's fingers. "You know, earlier, I had to restrain my hand, or it would have done god knows what to you." Andy blushed but returned the editor's squeeze. "Shame." Deep blue shot at her and she wriggled her eyebrows as she grinned.

Their afternoon was busy, and there was a small crisis with missing accessories and an absent model, none of which were Andy's fault, but both of which were solved by her in a matter of minutes. Miranda had shot her appreciative glances had seemed less harsh on the rest of the staff as well.

Evening rolled in and the hallways of RUNWAY slowly emptied. Miranda remained at her desk, busy with typing up the Editorial for the upcoming issue and Andy spent most of her time writing emails and confirming the schedule for the next two weeks. At nine-thirty the assistant glanced into the main office and saw the editor leaning back in her chair, eyes closed, and she was massaging the back of her neck. "Would you like some tea?" Andy ask shyly, leaning against the doorway. The older woman tilted her head against the back of the chair, leaned her elbows on the arm rests and clasped her hands together as she gazed at her assistant in contemplation. "Yes. Thank you."

Andy nodded and walked around to the office kitchen to boil some water. She stood at the large metal sink to rinse out two cups when she suddenly felt a hand snaking around her side and across her stomach. A soft body pressed into her from behind and a second hand joined the first one to pull her close. The cups fell into the sink with a clang when warm lips wandered over the side of her neck and she felt Miranda's soft hair tickle her cheek. Andy had to close her eyes and gasped at the sensation of the editor's hips pushing into her buttocks. She gave in to the urge to move back against the warmth and heard a soft moan against her ear.

Miranda's hands sensually stroked up her belly until they reached her breasts and Andy rolled her head back onto a hot shoulder when gentle palms cupped the soft mounds through the fabric of her dress. Their hips began to sway and roll against each other in a slow dance and one of Miranda's hands trailed back down Andy's front. She pressed the warm palm against the junction of the girl's legs, against the tight fabric of her dress and they both moaned at the contact. Although she thoroughly enjoyed the feeling of someone touching her from behind, Andy needed to feel Miranda's lips and taste her mouth, so she wriggled out of the embrace and turned around.

The editor quickly pulled her to the side and urged her up on the counter before she pulled her head down in a heated crashing of lips. This kiss was anything but slow. Miranda's tongue was greedy, seeking entrance almost immediately. The editor's hands were gathering up the Chanel dress so that she could spread the girl's legs and step in between while Andy pulled her hips closer with a well-placed hand on the older woman's ass. They moaned into each other at the contact and the assistant firmly wrapped both her legs around her boss. Miranda's hands were in Andy's hair, stroking the base of her neck and holding her in place as her hot tongue ravished the girl's mouth.

Their chests pressed against each other with each heavy breath they drew through their noses and their tongues danced in firm, long strokes. Andy was about to lose her mind. She had never, ever been kissed like this. It was strong and demanding, but at the same time so soft and gentle that it not only ached between her legs, but also inside her heart. Miranda pressed herself against Andy in a sensual rhythm and even through the fabric of the editor's skirt the girl could feel the heat emanating from her center. The hands had left Andy's long tresses by now and were firmly cupping her butt, pulling her against the older woman in sync with her thrusting hips.

The pressure against her felt exquisite and Andy feared she would suffocate if she did not pull away for air. However Miranda was unrelenting and drove her tongue into the girl's mouth in time with her hips and hands and Andy could do nothing but hold on. Sweet ripples started to build inside of her as the older woman's front ground into the silk panties covering the sensitive bud between her thighs, harder and faster and she moaned into the editor's mouth while she sucked on that demanding tongue in need of some kind of anchor to hold her down. Andy came hard and pulled at Miranda with her arms, and legs and mouth as her body went rigid with pleasure and a long guttural groan escaped her throat.

They were both breathing hard through their nostrils but neither wanted to break their kiss. Miranda sucked sweetly at Andy's bottom lip and stroked up and down the girl's back until the girl had landed back on earth and smiled against the editor's mouth. Wow. Just wow. The intensity of their connection completely dazzled Andy. She had imagined sex with the older woman on many lonely nights, but she had never imagined how powerful it would be, and how delicious is could feel. Nothing in her life had prepared her for the tender ravishing she had just undergone. She felt like Miranda had taken her, made Andy hers, but she didn't feel violated or mistreated. No, she felt like she was finally complete and she felt truly and utterly loved.

Miranda ran her tongue over the inside of the girl's bottom lip, and ever so slowly, yet firmly pressed back into the junction of Andy's legs. Another moan escaped the girl and she pulled at the editor's head to deepen the kiss again. No, now it was Miranda's turn, she thought, as one of her hands wandered slowly down the older woman's stomach. Her other palm was rubbing against Miranda's backside in languid strokes and she was just about to slip under the aubergine sweater when they heard the glass doors to the outer office open.

They quickly moved apart and Andy was nearly in agony at the loss of contact. A narrow wall was shielding them from inquisitive eyes but anyone could just walk up and spot them. So the girl quickly jumped off the counter and straightened her dress as she dashed around the corner to meet Brad, who was holding the Book. He looked at her in shock and Andy knew he could tell. Did she have smeared lipstick? Probably. And her hair must be a mess. She gave him a pained smile with pleading eyes and he seemed to loosen up a bit. "Whichever hot hunk you have in there, make sure the Ice Queen doesn't catch you or you'll be fired." Andy eagerly nodded, unsure whether she should scream or burst out laughing at the situation. "I'm sorry Brad, I know it's unprofessional... it's just... one of those things, okay?"

He just shrugged his shoulders and handed her the Book. "Whatever." He turned around and left, walking a bit more briskly than usual. Once he was gone Andy let out a long sigh and was about to go back and check on Miranda when she heard a deep, full laugh coming from behind her. "So I'm a hot hunk now, huh?" When she spun around she saw the editor leaning against the door frame to the kitchen, with her arms crossed and a full fledged grin spread on her face.

The assistant stepped closer and gave her boss a shy smile. "You're hot, that's for sure."

Andy had to resist the urge to pull Miranda in for another kiss but the risk of getting caught was really too high and the editor was aware of that as well. "I think we should continue this tomorrow night at my house?" Andy knew she was pouting, and it was childish and unprofessional and she hated that she could not seem to fight it. "Andrea, I need to get home to my children and go over the Book." Andy realized the editor was right but that did not help the sadness spreading in her chest. "Does it make you feel better to know that I will probably not get an ounce of sleep tonight?" Miranda whispered as she gazed at the girl through lowered lashes.

Walking to the closet to retrieve the older woman's coat and bag, Andy shook her head. "No. It just makes me wish I could be there with you and hold you through the night." She offered the coat for Miranda to slip into and the older woman sighed as Andy's fingers brushed against her neck. "Now I will definitely not sleep," she murmured. The girl stepped in front of her, held out the Book and gently cupped Miranda's cheek with her empty hand. "I love you, too, Miranda." She leaned in for a quick but sweet kiss. "Goodnight." The editor clutched onto the book, and looked a bit startled. "When... when did I tell you...?" and then she remembered and a full smile took hold of her features. "Oh! Well... goodnight to you as well, my love." She kissed Andy gently and then turned and walked through the glass doors toward the elevator.

It took Andy a while to gather herself from the spot and get ready to go home. Like a giddy teenager she could not wait until she saw Miranda again tomorrow.


	9. Chapter 9

**Final Chapter**

Miranda stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom and tugged at her puffy cream shirt. She wasn't a great fan of Halloween or dressing up in costumes but her daughters had insisted, and she had to admit that the idea of showing her outfit to Andrea was exciting her. The twins had decided on a particular theme and with the amount of clothes in the house, which rivaled the Closet at RUNWAY, it had been easy for the editor to throw together an authentic looking ensemble. Black satin pants wrapped tightly around her backside and upper thighs and flared out at her knees where they were loosely tucked into tall, black leather Prada boots with three-inch heels. A dark-red silken Hermès scarf served as a sash around her hips, to which she had tied one of the sabres from the girls' fencing classes.

A delicate gold necklace was resting against her chest under the half-open shirt and she had put on large hoop earring she hadn't worn in over twenty years. Donning the gold-rimmed, black velvet, tri-cornered hat she exhaled with a long sigh and put her hands on her hips. She looked like she meant serious pirate business. "Yar!" she growled unenthusiastically, still not completely convinced she would not make a fool out of herself. She wondered what Andrea would think and watched her reflection blush. Their workday had been tense and a little awkward. They had not gotten a minute alone and considering the intensity of their little kitchen adventure, it had been complete torture to be so close to her assistant and not be able to touch. There had been longing glances and shy smiles all day but they had only heightened the tension between them.

The editor could still not quite believe that she had been so aggressive the previous evening. The emotional morning and the ridiculously arousing lunch had left her struggling all afternoon, and despite the fact that she could have gone home at six, she had stayed late, just to remain around Andrea. When the girl had come to check on her and asked if Miranda had wanted tea, the concern and affection in her assistant's face had clutched at Miranda's heart and she had gotten up from her chair and rushed after the girl before she could stop herself. Once they had started to kiss, all the boundaries had disappeared. Watching another blush flare on her cheeks, Miranda remembered the feeling of standing between the girl's legs and pressing herself against her hot center. She had no idea what had gotten into her.

The morning had been shy at first. Andrea had messaged her early to say that she had already gotten coffee, so there had been no caramel-coffee run to please the girl. When she had arrived in the office Andrea had taken her coat and bag with a radiant smile and their fingers had brushed ever so slightly when the editor had handed over the Book. Sadly a new second assistant had been sent up from Human Resources and had lingered around the office in an eagerness to learn, which had left no alone-time for the boss and her first assistant. Andrea had at one point sent the new girl to Calvin Klein but then Nigel had come over with an art department crisis which had left Miranda even more cranky than usual.

At six-thirty p.m. she had left the office, but not before letting her fingers linger on Andrea's warm arms, as the girl had handed over her bag and coat. They had shared an intense gaze, but under the scrutiny of the second assistant the editor had sighed and slowly turned away to make her way to the elevator. She had focused on the fact that in a few hours Andrea would arrive at her house and then they would have all the time they would need.

"Mooom!" Miranda turned from the mirror with a final look and left the bedroom. "Girls, what have I told you about yelling in the house," she said evenly as she descended the stairs to the floor below. Her twins were standing on the blue carpet of the sitting room in matching pirate garb, their leather boot-clad feet tapping in impatient rhythm. "Mom, it's nearly eight. When is Andy supposed to get here?" Caroline asked. The editor walked over to her girls and bent down to straighten their hats and little vests. "She'll be here shortly after eight, Bobbsey." Cassidy stepped away to stare her mother up and down. "Wow, mom. You look awesome!"

"Thank you, Darling. You two look adorable." She stood back up and put a hand on her hip. "Now, shall we go and see what kind of feast worthy of pirate queens the cook has conjured?" "Yay!" Cassidy turned to rush down the stairs to the ground floor with Caroline on her heels. "It's not 'yay' Cass, it's 'YAR!'" Miranda smirked as she heard more pirate yells coming from downstairs and moved to join her eleven-year-old pirate recruits. Their housekeeper had left dinner on heating plates on top of the kitchen island and Caroline and Cassidy were kneeling on the high bar stools to lean over the different dishes.

Miranda had initially worried about how the girls would react to her assistant joining them for their family time, however her daughters had surprised her with their enthusiasm at the mention of Andrea's name. Of course she was aware of their improved attitude toward her assistant, but she hadn't thought that they actually liked her. Caroline had even insisted on phoning Andrea herself, to let her know about the evening's theme and to ensure she would show up in a matching costume.

"Bobbsey, do not stick your finger into our dinner!" The red-head shot her a look, not unlike her own icy glare, and said, "Mom, I'm a pirate today!" Miranda rolled her eyes as Cassidy giggled into another "Yar!" when the doorbell rang. "That's Andy!" "Yar!" The girls jumped off, nearly toppling over the bar stools, and rushed toward the hallway. The door was quickly swung open, only to reveal two little ninja's holding out plastic bags. "Trick or treat!" The editor walked into the entrance way just in time to see Caroline pull her own sabre and poke it into the air. "Pirates versus ninjas! YARRRR!"

Cassidy pulled at her sister's arm. "Caro, that's just Ben and Toby from across the street." The smaller one of the ninja's quickly pulled off his mask. "Yes, it's just us!" Caroline gave a cackle, "Avast, ye scallywag! Today ye be me enemy!" Before it could get out of hand, Miranda walked over with a bowl of sweets and dropped a handful of candy corn into the boys' bags. "I guess ye better wander off, ye landlubbers!" She winked and the ninjas quickly made their escape down the large stone steps. At the bottom they nearly crashed into a figure, dressed in a tight, black coat with gold stitching and a wide, ornamented belt around the middle. A small, pointy hat held back dark tresses and the flat-soled, polished, leather boots shimmered in the street lights.

The person looked up at the three Priestly women at their door and Miranda recognized Andrea. The girl smiled shyly and walked up toward them. "Andy!" Caroline rushed down to greet her with a hug. "Oh wow! You're Elizabeth from Pirates of the Caribbean III!" Andrea hugged the little pirate back and smiled up at the older woman. "You guys look awesome!" Miranda saw her assistant's eyes linger on her waist and bosom and felt warmth rush through her. "Come on in," she quickly breathed, before she could do anything inappropriate, for all the street to see.

Caroline grabbed the assistant's hand and quickly pulled her inside. "Come, ye matey! We be having a feast!" Miranda watched as the twins ushered Andrea into the kitchen, completely in awe at the scene playing out in front of her. She had not realized that the girls felt so comfortable around her assistant. She had told them off that time, more than half a year ago, when they had used Andrea to interrupt a fight between their mother and Stephen. The twins had returned from their grand-mother's a week later, after having thoroughly enjoyed their unpublished Harry Potter book, and had instantly confessed to their little prank. Apparently Andrea had hand-delivered the manuscripts to them at the station and they had, for the first time in their life, felt remorse about playing tricks on one of Miranda's assistants.

Cassidy was excitedly lifting up the lids from the dishes on the counter and Caroline, still pulling at Andrea's hand, kept pointing at the different plates. "Andy, look! Meat loaf in the shape of a pirate ship!" The assistant glanced up at Miranda, who leaned against the doorway, and gave her a ravishing look. No longer able to resist, the editor stepped forward. "Girls, please go and set the table in the dining room. Use the good china from the cabinet." The twins dashed off, not without yelling. "Aye-aye, Cap'n!"

Finally alone, Miranda closed the distance and pulled Andrea in for a deep kiss. Their tongues quickly found each other and they moaned as their hips collided, hands pressing them impossibly closer. When they separated they leaned their foreheads together and had to hold onto their hats to keep them from falling off. "Well hello thar," the editor breathed against the girl's lips. "Hello to you, too... ye sexy Pirate Cap'n Lady," Andrea smiled. "I've been looking forward to this all day!" She gently nuzzled Miranda's cheek. "Apparently not as much as the girls," the editor said thoughtfully. "They've been asking me questions about you all afternoon. They could hardly wait for you to get here."

"Hmmm," Andrea slowly nodded her head. "Yes, I think we have kind of become friends over the past months. They've been incredibly nice to me for a while now." Miranda leaned in for a quick peck. "Well, you are very hard not to like." Two pairs of excited footsteps alerted them to pull apart and the two red-heads darted back into the kitchen. "All done, cap'n!" The editor gave a small chuckle and then turned to grab some food. "Let's bring the feast and then get eating!" A chorus of "Aye!" and "Yar!" answered her and they moved into the dining room.

"Caroline, please remove your hat when you eat." Small blue eyes shot up. "But mom, I'm a PIRATE!" The editor raised an eyebrow at her daughter, who was sitting next to Andrea. "That doesn't mean you can't show some manners at the table." Caroline pouted but removed her hat. "Aye-aye..." she continued in a whisper "... ye scurvy dog!" That caused Cassidy and Andrea to nearly choke on their soup in laughter. Miranda merely glared at the three of them, "I see. So that's how it's going to be. I'll have a mutiny on my hands before the night is over. I may need to plan counter measures." Her daughters looked at her a bit startled, but Andrea just gave a mischievous grin.

"I have a small fire waiting in the backyard," she took another spoonful of soup as she glared at her fellow pirates pointedly, one by one. "However only a truly loyal shipmate will get to share my booty of marshmallows, chocolate and crackers." Her daughters' eyes went large and Cassidy squealed. "By the powers!" Caroline eagerly dug into her soup. "S'mores ahoy!" Andrea looked back at the older woman warmly and the editor stretched out her legs to gently rub her boots against her assistant's legs.

Dinner was a cheerful affair and Miranda had trouble remembering the last time she had experienced such a pleasant meal with her daughters. They didn't eat together very often and when they got the chance it was never filled with much laughter. The editor was usually pre-occupied with work, and their table conversations never went far beyond their school grades, homework or the latest gadgets or toys the girls wanted. In the recent months, though, Miranda had made an effort to include the girls a little bit in her work-life, she had made a habit of telling them a bit about her days and they had shown an interest and even asked her the occasional question.

It was true that the relationship with her daughters had improved since the departure of Stephen and Miranda wondered if it had to do with the lack of fighting in the house or because of the guilt she felt for estranging yet another father figure. The twins seemed to cope very well, though, without a man in the house. When she looked beside her at Cassidy, and across the table at Caroline, who were animatedly chatting with Andrea, she realized that they actually seemed happy. The love she felt surging up inside of her made her chest constrict and she felt a stinging in her eyes.

"Mom, are you okay?" Caroline shot her a worried look and Cassidy leaned over to hug her. "Yes, I'm fine. Better than fine, actually." She smiled and tried to keep the tears from actually falling as she looked into Andrea's loving face. She reached across the table to put her hand on her assistant's and gently stroked the back of her hand. "I think... I think that I'm actually happy." Her eyes never left Andrea's, which began to tear up as well, and the brunette folded her other hand around Miranda's to hold it in a tender grasp. Caroline had moved off her chair and walked around the table to stand next to her mom and leaned in to hug her as well. "We love you, mom." Cassidy squeezed her from the other side. "Yeah, mom, we love you so much." Andrea gazed at her intently with shiny eyes and then nodded with a wide smile on her lips.

It struck the editor that this was pure and utter bliss. Somehow, somewhere in her life she must have done something right to finally deserve this happiness. She removed her hand from Andrea's hold and hugged her daughters tightly before kissing them both on their heads. "I think it's time for s'mores." "Yay!" "Yarr!" The twins dashed in the direction of the backyard. "Girls, don't touch the fire, and don't eat any of the marshmallows yet. We will do this properly!" "Aye-aye Cap'n!" She smiled at Andrea who beamed back at her. "We should go and check on 'em sprogs. I don' trust 'em as far as I can throw 'em!" They both chuckled and got up.

"Come 'ere," the editor whispered and her assistant moved to her side. Miranda entwined their fingers and they walked into the next room and through the open French doors into the backyard. It wasn't a very large yard, but big enough for New York City standards. The deck was lit with scattered candles and the fire in a small brazier crackled away, surrounded by four luxury patio chairs. "Oh wow, this is really nice, Miranda." The editor squeezed her hand and smiled. "I wanted it to be special. You know, I've never done anything like this with the girls before." She felt sadness at this, but knew that from now on, things were going to change. Andrea let go of her hand and slid her arm up and around her shoulders for a sideways hug. Miranda sighed and looked over at her daughters who were busily digging around in the bags of candy. "Caroline, what are you doing? Take the marshmallows off your sabre this instant."

They spent the next hour roasting marshmallows and the twins had quickly made a sticky mess of their costumes. The Priestly dog, Patricia, had joined them and gobbled up any food that "accidentally" dropped to the floor. Caroline had moved to sit on Andrea's lap and they were trying to invent a new technique of roasting the entire s'more already on the stick, which resulted in the cracker burning and the chocolate melting and dripping into the fire with a loud, smelly hiss, which briefly alerted Patricia from her lazy slumber before she lowered her large head again and continued to sleep. Cassidy had crawled onto her mother's lap and was playing with the editor's hair with her sticky fingers. Miranda did not get much time to show affection to her daughters and she had really missed it. Cassidy had always been the more cuddly one of the girls and it had been years since she had allowed either of them to fall asleep on her lap or even touch her face and hair.

She revelled in the content look her daughter gave her. "Darling, can I ask you something?" She tenderly tipped her nose against the girl's. "Sure, mom. What's up?" "How come you're so comfortable around Andrea. I mean, how come you like her so much?" Cassidy paused her fingers and gave her an insecure look. "Well... you like her, too." Miranda quizzically narrowed her eyes. "Over the past few months you talked about her a lot. During dinner, or when you came to say goodnight and told us about your day." The editor was taken slightly aback. Had she really?

"We've never heard you talk like that about anyone before and it made your eyes light up. Every time." Miranda glanced over at her assistant who was in the middle of a giggle-fit with her other daughter. "Hmmm. Did it now?" Cassidy nodded eagerly. "But we don't just like Andy because she makes you happy, we also like her because she's really cool. When she delivers the book we sometimes sneak out to talk to her." At this the editor gave her a small glare. "You get out of bed at night?" Cassidy looked back sheepishly. "Well yes, we wanted to get to know her better because she means a lot to you." Miranda sighed and wrapped her arms around the twin for a hug. "Yes, yes she does."

She was amazed at the maturity and insight of her daughters. They were only eleven, but maybe having a mother like Miranda and losing two father figures already in their short lives, had forced them to grow up faster. She kissed Cassidy's hair and then pulled away. At least they liked Andrea and the way they interacted, she could envision them spending more time together, as a family. The thought caused happiness to rise in her chest and she knew that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with the brunette. Maybe they had only figured out their mutual feelings a day ago, however they had already been physically and emotionally involved in each other's life for a long while now, and Miranda could simply not imagine a life without Andrea in it.

Caroline's voice pulled her out of her musings. "Andy, tell us a scary story!" Cassidy turned toward the other two. "Oh yes. Please, Andy!" Miranda nodded at the questioning look from her assistant and pushed the twin off her lap. "Come on, let's sit closer." They shuffled their chairs together and resumed their earlier positions when Andrea lowered her head conspiratorially. "Okay, the following is a true story, so it may be very frightening." Caroline rolled her eyes. "Come on Andy, we're not little kids anymore!"

"Alright then. So there once was this beautiful queen, who ruled over a vast empire with an iron fist. She wasn't really a bad queen, her subjects had good lives, but they had to work hard, and always do their very best to please their queen. If not, she would be ruthless. Everyone fearfully respected her, although nobody wanted to be her friend." Miranda gave her assistant a glare. Where was this going?

"Then one day the queen woke up to find that she could no longer control her right hand." Andrea demonstratively wriggled her fingers. "It started to horribly interfere with her life, you see. She accidentally strangled her chambermaid when the girl had gotten the temperature of her bathwater wrong." At this Cassidy gasped but Caroline only narrowed her eyes expectantly. "Her hand went on to murder half her court and soon nobody dared to go near the queen anymore, except for one humble servant girl who had always liked the queen, despite the way she treated everyone around her." Miranda snorted and rolled her eyes at her assistant but could not hide the smirk on her lips.

"The servant wanted to help the queen and thought that if she could somehow restrain the hand, the queen would no longer kill innocent people. So she snuck up to her bedchambers one night." Andrea lowered her voice and the girls moved in even closer to be able to hear. "And when she stood at the foot of the bed, she slowly reached out..." Cassidy was grabbing onto her mother's arm apprehensively. "... and all of a sudden, out of nowhere, the queen's killer hand grabbed at her..." The girls gasped and Caroline covered her mouth with her hands. "... and then she started to torturously tickle the poor girl." At the last part Andrea reached out and began to tickle the twins who let out surprised yelps that quickly turned into giggles. Patricia raised her head and regarded the noisy scene with an expression, that seemed to say 'can't you silly humans be quiet and let me sleep already?'

Caroline jumped off Andrea's lap and escaped down into the dark grass. "Ahhhh!" The brunette then focused on Cassidy who was squirming on her mother's lap. "Mom, help me! Protect me from the evil queen's hand!" Miranda could no longer contain the laughter that boiled up inside and she grabbed onto her daughter's belly and began a tickle attack of her own. Cassidy managed to wriggle away and she joined her sister to hide behind the darkened bushes in the back of the garden. The editor glanced over at a smiling Andrea and she felt so full of love that it hurt. "Come on," she stood and held out her hand to her assistant. "I go around left. You take the right." "Aya-aye Cap'n," Andrea grinned as they stepped onto the grass and split up to circle the girls, who were giggling somewhere in the dark.

Miranda carefully felt her way, around trees and bushes and suddenly heard a branch crack right in front. "Avast! I have ye!" She was attacked by strong hands and realized it was Andrea who started to tickle her. "Hey! I'm on your side," she managed to say between giggles. "I know," came the whispered answer very close to her ear. And then Andrea kissed her. The older woman softly moaned into her assistant's warm mouth and they held each other tightly, pressing their bodies fully into each other.

"Mom, Andy, where are you?" they heard Cassidy yell. Reluctantly breaking apart Miranda answered, "Over here, Bobbsey. We'll come out now." She grabbed Andrea's hand and pulled her out of the dark and back onto the porch where the girls were already eating some leftover chocolate. "Caroline, don't eat so much sugar before bedtime, or you won't be able to sleep." The red-head looked up with a pout. "Aw, mom, is it already time?" "Yes, darling, I'm afraid so. You two should go up and get ready for bed." The twins faces fell. "But mom, we want to stay up with Andy!" "Yes, mom, we had such a great time."

Andrea knelt next to girls and gave them both a hug. "I've had a great time as well. I promise we will see each other again very soon." Miranda sat down on the chair next to them and put a hand on the brunette's back. "Actually, if it's okay with Andrea, you will see her tomorrow morning at breakfast." The twins eyes grew large. "What? Really?" Caroline jumped up and down and Cassidy beamed at her mother. "Okay, time for bed then. Come one Caro." She took her sister's hand and they quickly hurried toward the house. "I will come up later to tuck you in," Miranda yelled after them. Caroline turned around at the door. "Andy too, please!"

Her assistant looked at her shyly and the editor squeezed her shoulder in return. "Of course Bobbsey. We'll be up in a bit." The twins whispered with each other and giggled and then rushed into the house and out of sight. Andrea chuckled and slipped into the recliner to sit behind the older woman. "Come here," she held out her arms and Miranda thankfully leaned back into the embrace. A soft cheek leaned against the side of her face and the brunette tightened her arms to pull her in tighter. "Hmmm, this feels so very nice," she heard the girl whisper in her ear. Miranda could only hum a reply in pleasure when she felt a warm hand rub against her stomach.

"Miranda, I love you so much." Andrea squeezed her and nuzzled her neck. The editor held tightly onto the arms around her and whispered, "Darling, I cannot begin to describe how much you mean to me. And seeing you like this, with my girls..." she took a deep breath to fight the constriction in her chest. "It makes me the happiest I have ever been in my life." Warm lips moved against the side of her throat. "Miranda. My dear sweet Miranda. I could hold you like this forever." "Please do," she said, pressing back into the warm body.

They remained like this, quiet, and simply holding on to each other in front of the diminishing fire. Patricia had already decided that the fading heat was no longer warm enough and had trotted back inside the house and a while later Andrea mumbled into the older woman's silver hair. "Hmmm, I'm getting a bit chilly." Miranda shuffled closer into her. "Hmmm, I'm nice and warm. I don't know what your problem is." Her assistant poked her in the side. "Hey! I can't afford to get sick, I have a very demanding boss, you know!" At that the editor leaned forward and turned around to face the girl. "Hmmm, do you now?" Andrea gave her the cutest grin and she felt forced to lean forward for another gentle kiss.

"You know, we need to talk about that, though. As much as I would hate to lose you as my assistant, I don't think it would be fair for you to keep working for me." The girl nodded thoughtfully. "I'm not sure I can handle being away from you, though. I mean, we've spent nearly a year around each other all day long, and even some evening events... and late nights at the office..." The editor smirked. "Late nights at the office, huh?" They kissed again. "Alright, let's discuss this in the morning. Right now, I think it's time for bed." She got up and pulled the brunette with her. "Let's say goodnight to the girls." And with that they walked into the house.

When they were halfway up the stairs Miranda heard soft talking coming from the twins' bedroom. Sudden panic rippled through her when she made out a third voice besides her girls' and she quickly pulled Andrea with her. They stopped outside the half-open door the editor thought she was hallucinating. In the middle of the room, in between the girls' beds, was a figure floating in the air, about a foot off the ground. A blue light radiated off the form and small wings attached to its back were fluttering to keep it afloat. It looked like a person, like a small woman actually, and the girls were speaking to it.

"Thank you so much. We don't know what you exactly did but it really worked!" Caroline said and Cassidy was nodding and then the blue being spoke in a soft, melodious voice, "No need to thank me, my darlings. That's what a fairy godmother is for." She reached down to ruffle both girls' hair and then turned to the door to look directly at Miranda. Those eyes and that grin looked awfully familiar to the editor. "And now I must leave. I have the feeling you girls will no longer need my help." And with that she disappeared in a cloud of blue smoke.

The twins turned to look toward the door in horror. "Mom!" Miranda walked inside and gently pulled the girls to sit on the bed to either side of hers while Andrea stood a few feet away. "Girls, did you make a wish about me to a... a fairy?" The red-heads looked at each other worriedly so the editor added, "It's okay, mommy is not mad." Caroline nodded slowly. "We're sorry mom, we just wanted for you to be happy." Cassidy chimed in, "and it seemed to take forever for you to figure everything out on your own..." she looked at Andrea who was sheepishly standing next to the bed. "So we... asked for some help."

The editor pulled her daughters tightly to her. "Oh my darlings," she kissed them both on their foreheads, "what would I do without you?" The girls giggled in relief and hugged her back. "Okay, time for bed now." Caroline walked over to her own bed and Miranda tucked in Cassidy. "Goodnight, darling," she nuzzled the girl's cheek and then moved to her other daughter. "You too, Bobbsie, sleep tight!" "Goodnight, mom! Andy, can I have a goodnight hug?" "Me too!" The brunette smiled and hugged both girls goodnight and then her and Miranda left the room and closed the door behind them.

"So, uhm, I'm not crazy, right? You saw... you saw that too," the assistant asked when Miranda led her in the direction of her own bedroom. "Darling, after these last fifty hours, nothing will ever surprise me again!" They both chuckled and the editor opened the door at the end of the hallway. "Now..." she turned to the brunette, "that does not mean you shouldn't take up the challenge, though." Andrea giggled and slid her arms around the older woman's waist, "oh really? Hmmm, so Pirate Cap'n Lady, earlier you mentioned something about sharing your booty." Miranda giggled and let herself be shoved into the room.

As soon as they had closed and locked the door Andrea pushed her against the door and began to kiss her hungrily. Miranda tasted chocolate and marshmallows on the brunette's tongue and it reminded her of her sweet and sticky dream. She automatically raised one leg and wrapped her thigh around Andrea's waist to pull her in closer. Her assistant's hands quickly pulled off the Hermès scarf, tossed the sabre to the floor, and un-tucked her shirt when a warm hand slowly slid across Miranda's bare stomach. The editor moaned into the kiss and tightened her leg, which essentially trapped the girl's hand between their pressed bodies. Andrea broke the kiss and seemed to want to pull away but Miranda locked her arms tightly around her and pushed off the floor to also wrap her other leg around the brunette's hips. The sudden weight forced the girl to push her back into the door and the sweet pressure of Andrea's stomach pushing firmly between her legs forced the older woman to throw her head against the door in a groan.

"Miranda, I just wanted to get to the bed... oh god..." she leaned in for another hungry kiss and moved her arms lower so she was holding Miranda's ass and then tightly pulled her against herself. Their moans mingled in the dance of their tongues. The editor realized that the belt buckle of Andrea's costume was deliciously pressing in just the right spot and she thrust her hips harder against the girl. "Oh, god... Miranda we're going to fall over..." The older woman just pulled her back for another kiss and arched her back so her hips were away from the door. The sensation of warmth and slick wetness soaking through her underwear and her satin trousers threatened to drive her crazy. She knew she must be ruining their costumes, but she didn't care. That's what dry-cleaners were for.

Suddenly Andrea's right hand snaked up her butt and slipped into the satin and under her silk panties. "An-drea..." The warm fingers travelled between the two mounds of flesh and moved lower toward her throbbing center. "Oh goooodd..." she moaned when two digits slipped into her dripping heat, the warm palm holding her up and gently parting her cheeks. Andrea's other hand joined the first one outside of her clothes for extra support. At the same time the girl's stomach still rhythmically pressed the belt into her from the front and Miranda thought she would pass out from a sensory overload. Andrea let go of her mouth and moved to suckle on her pulse point when she began to curl up the two fingers inside Miranda in languid waves, slowly increasing the speed. The older woman pushed onto the hand as hard as she could, groaning at the feeling of the heel of that palm rubbing so sensually against her most private area, while those fingers slipped deeper and deeper inside of her, stretching her swollen flesh with every push.

She had never felt this filled before in her life, and the sensations of the soft, warm mouth on her throat, the pressure against the throbbing bundle of nerves, those strong, delicious fingers thrusting into her core and that palm pushing between her ass cheeks, caused her to feel faint. It was all too much, she was sure she would certainly die the sweetest death. "Miranda, you're so beautiful. Oh god, you feel incredible," Andrea whispered against her throat and pushed into her even harder. The older woman was panting violently now, so very close to the edge. She tightened her arms and legs around the brunette and groaned. "An... drea!" She felt a shockwave explode from her center and her inner walls gripped tightly around the girl as the orgasm shook her violently. Her head fell back against the door every single muscle in her body went rigid for what felt like minutes.

When she finally felt life return to her limbs she languidly ground her hips against the girl one more time, revelling in the delicious pulsing between her legs, and then leaned forward to kiss Andrea, deep and slow and with all the love she felt rushing through her veins. She felt the girl shudder, and then tremble until she was shaking violently. "Mira... I can't..." The older woman suddenly understood and quickly lowered her legs to stand on wobbly feet. The girl's hand slipped out of her and came to rest against her butt cheek, wet and warm. The editor pulled her assistant closer. "Oh darling... my sweet Andrea..." she kissed her lovingly. The girl seemed to sway. Oh god, she must have completely worn her out.

"Come to bed," she gently pulled her across the room and tenderly pushed her down onto the silk covers. Miranda bent over to take off Andrea's boots and then removed her own, before she lowered herself next to the girl and gathered her up in her arms. The exhausted assistant hugged her tightly and mumbled into her neck. "I love you, Miranda." The editor nuzzled her cheek and inhaled deeply. "I love you, too, Andrea. Stay with me. Forever." The girl kissed her sweetly and whispered, half-asleep, "I will. I promise."

The End


End file.
